


Natasha Romanoff x Reader One Shots

by DaisyErina



Series: Avengers x Reader One Shots [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Natasha Romanoff - Freeform, Other, Reader Insert, natasha romanoff x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 32,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyErina/pseuds/DaisyErina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On FF.net and Quotev, I have an Avengers x Reader One Shots series. On here and Wattpad, I've separated them by character. I apologize if the descriptions are sucky. More recent requests will have the original request plot in the beginning. Older ones, like the entire Steve series, I had to come up with a quick description while posting them. They were written quite some time ago. I don't remember every story exactly. These are all written with a female reader unless otherwise stated</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're afraid to tell Nat how you feel

**Secrets**  
Request for Rachel Wolfe

 

Secrets are hard, whether it’s a deep and personal secret, the kind that you don’t want anyone to ever know, or a unique secret, the kind that you desperately want to get off your chest but can’t for fear of a bad reaction.  
Secrets about one’s sexual orientation can be the most difficult to assess and deal with. After deciding that one is homosexual or bisexual, or anything in-between, one may confidently inform their friends and family of their discovery, or shyly hide it away for fear of rejection.

Such a secret was the one you carried around with you every day. You preferred the attention of females, and you didn’t dare tell your family. Your parents were religious nuts who believed that homosexuality was wrong, and while your siblings weren’t as religious, they didn’t approve of same-sex relationships either.  
You considered spilling your secret to your friends, but since you already knew you couldn’t trust your family, you opted to keep your secret to yourself, just in case.

You’d met the Avengers due to your parents having history with Tony’s. Despite their religious differences, the (l/n)s and the Starks were often working together on various technology projects. You’d spent some time with Tony when you were teens, though there weren’t a lot of shared interests between you two. Whenever you were forced to accompany each other while your parents worked, Tony would be working on his own hobby and you’d be reading or playing on your cell phone.  
You and Tony had remained friends through the years, from your teens to your adult years. He introduced you to the team one by one, careful not to get you too involved. He knew your secret, and he knew that you had no one to turn to, so he made sure that you had friends in the Avengers, even if he was the only one that knew.  
It was a sweet gesture, but it had one downside.  
There was one female Avenger, and you’d developed a crush on her.  
Go you.

You always had to watch yourself around the redheaded assassin, careful not to say anything stupid or obvious. She could kill the strongest enemy with a single glare – who knows what she’d do to you if your secret got spilled.  
You were sitting with the team in the main lounge room, just relaxing and playing games. The Avengers had just defeated a major threat to the planet, and rather than throwing a huge, loud, people-filled party, Tony had opted for a small gathering of the team and their closest friends, which included you and a few SHIELD agents.  
Why Tony had agreed to such an arrangement, one would never know. It certainly pleased the crowd, being able to sit and chat with one another without having to shout to be heard over blaring music. There was also a much lower probability of having your drink spilled all over your chest from bumping into someone now that there were fewer someones to bump into.  
The lot of you gathered in the main entertainment room, perched or sprawled on various pieces of furniture. You were quietly sipping your (f/drink) as you watched the Avengers mingle.  
“Let’s play a game!” a slightly tipsy Tony suggested, plopping down on the couch with a fresh drink in his hand.  
“What kind of game?” Natasha inquired cautiously. The billionaire was known for getting his friends into rather intimate situations with his games.  
“Truth or Dare!” he shouted. “No, Spin the Bottle! Wait, no! Seven Minutes in Heaven!”  
“Which is it, Tony?” Bruce questioned with a soft sigh and a smile. He had grown accustomed to the billionaire’s idea of fun.  
“We could combine Spin the Bottle with Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Clint offered.  
“Yeah!” Tony nodded excitedly.  
You continued sipping your drink, nerves growing by the second. What if you got stuck with Natasha? You’d find out for sure how she felt about you, but if she was straight then you’d be shot down and that might hurt worse than not knowing.  
“(y/n) first!” Tony called, passing you an empty beer bottle. Gulping quietly, you set the bottle on the floor and spun it, watching it closely as though it would distract you from its decision.  
It slowed before stopping, the neck of the bottle pointing directly at the Black Widow herself.  
“Let’s get this over with,” she stated, standing and heading towards the storage closet. You stood on shaky legs and slowly followed, not wanting to appear too nervous.  
Once inside, Tony locked the door behind you, sealing you and the redhead in the darkness. You nibbled your lower lip, looking around the closet even though you couldn’t see. You could hear the assassin shifting her position, presumably moving closer to you, but you couldn’t be sure if she was.  
“I’m going to ask you one question, and I want you to be completely honest with me,” Natasha stated suddenly. You nodded before realizing that she couldn’t see you.  
“Shoot,” you complied.  
“Do you have romantic feelings for me?” she questioned. You could feel her stand in front of you, her breath ghosting over your face.  
“What would you do if I said I did?” you whispered, unable to will your voice to rise.  
“Do you?” she countered.  
You took a break before answering, “Yes.”  
Soft, plump lips crashed onto yours, catching your off guard. Your eyes shot open before fluttering closed, unable to believe that you hadn’t just fainted in fear and were currently dreaming. Thin but strong hands found your hips to pull you closer, giving you a small boost of confidence. You slowly reached your hands up to find her face. One hand rested shyly on her shoulder while the other rose cautiously to cup her jaw. Her teeth caught your lower lip, causing you to gasp. She smirked before pulling away just enough to rest her forehead against yours.  
“Does that mean the feelings are mutual?” you questioned softly, slightly out of breath. She chuckled against your lips before pecking them with her own.  
“Yes, it does.”


	2. Might As Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Nat get caught by the enemy

**Might As Well**  
Request for Skippy From Tech Support

 

Well, that plan failed.  
You sighed as you leaned your head back against the pole you were currently chained around. Chained around, specifically; not chained to. Chained to would have been much easier to get out of. “Chained to” meant that you were attached to a pole via handcuffs, giving you upwards of a foot of space to stretch and reach for weapons. “Chained around” meant that your arms were twisted behind your back, a pole set between your cuffed wrists and your uncomfortable back.  
“Any plans?” a feminine voice asked from your left. You knew who it belonged to. It was the insanely attractive redhead that you’d been sent on this mission with.  
“Nope,” you replied softly, popping the “p.”  
It had been a simple mission. Sneak into the base, find the secret files, and report the information back to Fury. And, of course, knock out some senseless guards along the way. There shouldn’t have even been time to get caught.  
But you had. You had defeated all of the existent guards on your way in, but you hadn’t anticipated more being called in. You and Natasha both had been distracted with hacking the computer systems and downloading the information Fury had required. The reinforcements had sneaked up behind the two of you, knocking out with the butts of their guns and chaining you around a couple of structure poles on the side of the room.  
“Sorry, Nat,” you offered lamely.  
“It’s fine,” she replied monotone. Her tough exterior remained, even around you. She’d known you even longer than she’d known Clint, but that didn’t make her any more open with her emotions or desires.  
Why or how you’d fallen for her, you’d never know.  
You sighed again, looking at your lap. Your knees were bent slightly, your feet flat on the floor. You stretched the limbs out, crossing your ankles. You looked around the room which was quickly losing light. You could barely make out the outlines of the many steel tables, covered in wires and high-tech computer systems. All of the power had been shut off except for the solitary light that hung from the ceiling above you, stuck between the two poles that you were each chained around.  
“You know,” Natasha mused, “it’s usually situations like this that bring people together.”  
You raised a brow as you turned your head to face her. “That so?”  
She nodded. “Steve and I have never spoken as much as we did when we were fugitives hiding from Hydra.”  
“Is that a suggestion or just a statement?”  
She paused. “A suggestion.”  
“What kinda things did you talk about?”  
“I spent most of the time trying to set him up,” she noted, a smirk crossing her plump lips. “We talked about ways to live your life, whether honesty is an advantage or a hindrance, and how we handle our relationships.”  
You nodded. “Sounds like deep and meaningful conversation.”  
“Do you have a significant other?” she asked.  
You tried not to let your heart fall. Not knowing that you didn’t have a significant other must have meant that she didn’t pay a ton of attention to you at all, meaning that she must not return your romantic feelings. “Nope.”  
She seemed to pause again. “I don’t either.”  
“Is that your choice?”  
She shrugged. “A bit. I don’t have a lot of time to think about things like that. Plus, our jobs are really dangerous. Any romantic relationship I have would just put the other person in danger.”  
“You could date someone from the team,” you suggested before you could stop yourself. You realized how much that sounded like an invitation, and tried to retract it. “I mean, you know… like Clint, or something. You spend a lot of time with him anyway, so, you know…”  
“I don’t like Clint,” she replied quickly. “Not romantically, at least.”  
“Oh,” you said softly. “Sorry. A lot of people just assume…”  
“I know they do,” she said just as softly. “They just don’t pay attention.”  
“You say that like someone else caught your eye,” you mused with a smirk.  
“Someone has,” she whispered. You looked at her for a moment. Her head was tilted down, her eyes casting over her spandex-clad legs. Her plump lips were parted slightly, breathing softly. Her curly red locks fell forward, blocking part of her face.  
“I didn’t mean to pry…” you replied, feeling awkward. She looked at you as you looked away. Her eyes scanned over your body, taking in your thin but muscled legs and arms, your form-fitting SHIELD uniform, and the way your (h/c) locks fell over your shoulders, framing your face.  
She mentally cursed herself. She was an assassin, one of the most deadly, yet she was getting flustered talking to a woman. Granted, that woman was the love of her life, and she was too proud to admit it... Damn.  
“(y/n)…” she began, mouth opening and closing a few times, resembling a fish.  
“What?” you inquired, turning to look at the redhead.  
“You’re that someone,” she admitted, her icy blue eyes boring into your own (e/c) orbs.  
“Really?”  
She nodded.  
A small smile claimed your lips. “You’re my someone, too.”  
Her smile mirrored yours before falling. “If you were closer, I’d kiss you.”  
You chuckled softly, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks. An idea formed in your head. “Are there any small objects behind me?”  
She turned her head as much as she could to see what lied on the floor beneath your hands. “There’s some kind of metal stick under your left hand.”  
You nodded and felt around the ground, your fingers coming in contact with the icy cold stick. You struggled to grasp it, wrapping your fingers around it and slowly feeling for a sharp end. You winced as said sharp end poked your thumb. Twirling the stick in your hand just a bit, you aimed it at the keyhole in the handcuffs, twisting it this way and that until a satisfactory click was heard. The cuffs slowly fell from your wrists, clanking to the floor.  
You slowly untwisted your arms and held them in your lap, rubbing your wrists to relieve some of the pain caused by the very unaccommodating metal. You then crawled over to your mission partner – and, hopefully, romantic partner – to unlock her cuffs the same way.  
She chuckled as her hands were freed. “Why didn’t you think of doing that sooner?”  
You shrugged. “I was planning on waiting for back-up, but you gave me incentive.”  
She smirked, her free hands coming up to cup either side of your face. Her plump lips pressed to your own, moving slowly and sensually. Your own hands reached up to hold her sides, pulling her closer. She moved in close enough for your arms to wrap around her waist, and hers around your neck. She nibbled your lower lip, causing you to gasp lightly.  
“Natasha?” a familiar voice called through the warehouse. “(y/n)? The rescue team has arrived and- Oh.”  
Clint stopped in his tracks upon seeing the two of you in embrace. You reluctantly pulled your lips away from hers and looked up at the stunned archer with a grin. You stood, offering the redhead a hand, which she accepted. You intertwined your fingers as you brushed past Clint, who continued starting at you.  
“Thanks, Hawk,” you smirked with a wave.  
He nodded stiffly, following you out. _Wait til Tony hears about this…_


	3. You're Not Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're worried that Nat won't be there on your birthday

**You’re Not Here**  
Request for ᴋʀᴇᴍ ᴅᴇ ʟᴀ ᴄʀᴇᴍᴇ  
A/N: established relationship, because I don’t have enough of those. Also, normally I do (f/show) or (f/song) because I don’t want to pick something you don’t like, but I get excited when I read a reader fic that happens to include my favorite, so I picked random fandoms.

A smile stretched across your face as you awoke, stretching your sleep-stiffened limbs as far as they would go. The sunlight outside was dimmed and blocked by the (f/c) curtains draped across the window. You shook out of your sleepy state as you sat up, breathing out a happy sigh.  
It was your birthday.  
You’d always loved your birthday. You had a handful of happy memories from your childhood. Birthday parties thrown by your parents, all of your friends attending and watching you blow out the candles on your birthday cake, tearing apart pieces of colorful wrapping paper to reveal what would come to be your most prized possessions underneath.  
You slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom, intending to start the morning with a hot shower. Your girlfriend Natasha was away for the time being, meaning you could use all the hot water you wanted.  
Your features contorted into a frown at the realization that your girlfriend wouldn’t be home to celebrate your birthday with you. With a heavy sigh, you stripped and stepped under the stream of steamy water. It relaxed your muscles as you tried desperately to think of ways to celebrate your special day without your special someone.  
You turned off the water and poked your hand through the gap between the wall and the shower curtain, feeling around for your towel. Wrapping the fluffy fabric around your body, you stepped out of the tub, returning to your bedroom to find something to wear. You opted for a white tank top and black yoga pants, since it was summer time and your apartment was rather warm. After running a brush through your hair and pinning it up in a messy bun, you sauntered into the kitchen to fix yourself some breakfast. You smiled fondly as you gathered the ingredients for pancakes. Your mother had always made you pancakes for breakfast on your birthday. You quietly hummed your favorite song as you mixed the batter and set a frying pan on the stove.  
Deciding that you needed some background noise, you grabbed the remote and turned on the TV that sat in the living room, next door to the kitchen. You scanned your DVD collection and found Being Human, setting the disc that contained your favorite episode into the disc drive. You brought the remotes into the kitchen before pouring some batter into the heated pan and waiting for the pancake to cook.  
You laughed softly to yourself as you thought of how Natasha had teased you for loving the shows that you did. As an assassin, she spent more time working and spying than relaxing with a TV show, so she didn’t understand your love for watching actors in movies.  
As your pancakes finished cooking, you fetched your preferred toppings from the fridge and cupboard. You plucked a plate from another cupboard and a fork from the drawer, using a spatula to slide the cakes onto your plate. You poured a glass of (f/drink) and took your things to the living room to better enjoy your show.  
As you finished your breakfast, your cell phone rang, playing “Misty Mountains Cold” from The Hobbit. You plucked it from its spot on the coffee table and tapped the “Answer” button, holding it up to your ear. “Hello?”  
“Hey, (y/n),” Clint replied on the other end. You could hear the smile in his voice. He wanted to celebrate.  
“What’s up, Clint?” you greeted with a soft sigh.  
“We’re taking you out tonight,” he stated.  
“Who’s ‘we’?”  
“The team. Me, Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Thor.”  
“Why?”  
“You know why! It’s your birthday!”  
“Yeah…”  
He paused, and you knew he knew why you weren’t very ecstatic. “Hey, I know you wish she was here tonight. We all do. You deserve to be with your girlfriend on your birthday. But since she’s not here, it’s up to us guys to cheer you up.”  
“And how are you going to do that?” You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped your throat. At least you had great friends.  
“We’re taking you out,” he replied, “like I said.”  
“When?”  
“We’ll pick you up at seven. Get dressed up.”  
With that, he hung up. You set your phone back on the coffee table before taking your dishes into the kitchen.

Six-thirty rolled around and you were just getting out of the shower. You dried yourself off and wrapped your (h/l) (h/c) locks in a towel, delving into your closet to find a pretty dress. Clint had told you to dress up, so you thought you might as well go all out. You selected a (f/c) form-fitting number that went to your knees. It hugged your curves all the way to your hips, loosening around the skirt to allow you walking room. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline. Natasha had bought it for you for your last anniversary.  
After slipping on the dress, you applied enough mascara to make your eyes pop and a light layer of (f/shade) lip stick. You returned back to your closet to find a pair of open-toed black stilettos, sliding your feet into them. Grabbing your small leather purse and ensuring that your wallet and cell phone were inside, you returned to the living room just as a knock came upon the door.  
You opened it and smiled at Clint.  
“Hey, (y/n),” he greeted as you grabbed your jacket from the coat stand beside the door. You followed him out to the limo that sat along the curb.  
“A limo?” you questioned with a raised brow. Clint chuckled and opened the door, revealing the rest of the team seated snuggly inside. You slid in beside Tony with a small smile as Clint followed.  
“So where are we going?” you inquired.  
“Out,” Bruce replied with a smile.  
That was all the explanation you received during the entire drive to your surprise celebration.  
“We’re here,” Clint informed you as the limo came to a stop. Your door was opened for you, giving you a view of your destination. Your eyes widened as you smiled at the sight before you. The guys had made reservations at your favorite restaurant in the city.  
They led you inside as Clint walked up to the hostess and gave her your last name. She nodded with a smile and led you to a long table that hosted seven chairs. You looked around in confusion, wondering why an extra chair sat unoccupied beside you. You looked up at the guys, brows furrowed. “Is someone else coming?”  
They all shrugged in reply as they took their seats. You pouted slightly, feeling left out. They knew something, and they weren’t telling you.

Halfway through dinner, your chin rested in your palm as you forked your plate, pushing the food around and occasionally taking a small bite. You missed your girlfriend, and the unoccupied seat beside you was a constant reminder.  
“Are you alright, (y/n)?” Bruce inquired, worry lacing his voice.  
“Fine,” you replied with a sigh. You stood abruptly, pushing your chair away from the table. “I’ll be right back. I have to use the restroom.”  
You made your way to the bathroom and leaned against the counter with a sigh. You looked down at your hands as another sigh escaped your lips. You hated missing her so much. She was so much stronger than you; going out on life-threatening missions while you sat at home, moping over pancakes.  
You heard the door open and looked up, pretending to check your makeup. Your fingers swiped the skin beneath your eyes, smoothing out any smudges. You ran your fingers through your hair, fixing the design, as you looked at your reflection. A gasp escaped your lips as a familiar redhead came into view, leaning against the stall behind you. You turned on your heel, jaw dropping as you took in the sight of Natasha in a black halter dress, crossing her arms with a smirk.  
“Nat!” you cried, rushing forward to wrap your arms around her neck. She chuckled as her arms wound around your waist. She pulled back enough to kiss your forehead.  
“Happy birthday, (y/n),” she whispered. You pulled her closer, smashing your lips to hers. She responded just as eagerly, her arms tightening around your waist.  
“I didn’t think you could make it,” you whispered against her lips.  
“I’d never miss your birthday,” she replied with a smile. “Come on, let’s get back to dinner.”  
You nodded as she untangled herself from you and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. She led you back out to the table and you blushed as the guys smiled and nodded at you. They’d had this planned all along.


	4. They're a Thing Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to "Might As Well"

**They’re a Thing Now?**  
Request for Jacqueline  
A/N: Sequel to Might As Well

 

“What do you mean, ‘they’re a thing now’?” Tony inquired as he sat at the table with Clint.  
“(y/n) and Nat,” Clint repeated. “They’re like a couple now.”  
“Called it!” the billionaire cried.  
“Called what?” a tired Bruce asked as he shuffled into the room.  
“(y/n) and Natasha,” Clint simplified.  
“Oh, that,” the doctor nodded in understanding.  
“‘Oh, that’?” Tony repeated. “Did everyone know before me??”  
Clint shrugged. “Pretty much. Steve and I found out when we rescued them, Bruce found out when he was checking them over for injuries, and Thor walked in on them making out.”  
“Aww!” Tony whined, wishing that he had been in Thor’s place. “No fair, man. I should have been there.”  
“For which part?” Bruce asked with a smirk, bringing his coffee over to the table to join the other two.  
“Any of it!” Tony cried. “It’s my Tower! I’m not supposed to be out of the loop.”

You sauntered into the kitchen to find a pouting Tony while Clint and Bruce chatted as though the sulking billionaire wasn’t there. “Morning guys,” you greeted cheerfully, pouring and doctoring up a cup of coffee.  
‘”Morning,” Clint returned with a smirk. Your usually neat (h/c) locks were mussed and tangled, your (f/c) tank top was riding up to reveal your hips, and a very distinct red mark had claimed your neck. “Have fun last night?”  
“More than you,” you grinned, walking up to the table. You didn’t even bother to cover your tracks, showing off Natasha’s claims.  
“When did you two become a thing?!” Tony demanded.  
“When we were tied to poles in an abandoned warehouse,” Natasha answered, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. “Morning, babe.”  
“Morning,” you smiled, turning your head to catch her lips with yours. She responded immediately, turning you around in her arms to kiss you properly. Your hands tangled in her hair, deepening the kiss as her tongue grazed your lip.  
Someone clearing their throat caught your attention, causing you two to break apart ever-so-slightly. You turned your head to see your growing audience; Thor and Steve had joined everyone for breakfast and they were all watching the show. Clint and Tony were smirking, Bruce was looking away respectively, Thor had his head tilted in curiosity, and Steve was blushing furiously.  
Natasha smirked as a blush claimed your cheeks. She licked her lips and reluctantly released your hips, turning her attention to the kitchen. “Anyone hungry? I’ll make breakfast.”  
A chorus of distracted “Yeah”s answered her and she giggled, clearly proud of her ability to flabbergast the entire team in one go.  
“Can I help?” you inquired, watching as Natasha gathered the ingredients for pancakes.  
“Sure, you can mix,” she replied, passing you a bowl and whisk. You nodded and measured out the ingredients, combining them quickly. She heated a pan on the stove and took the batter from you to begin cooking.  
“Anyone want eggs?” you asked, turning to look at the boys. A few heads nodded as though in a trance, causing you to giggle. You retrieved the eggs from the fridge and cracked a few into a bowl, pulling a frying pan out of the drawer beneath the stove. You bumped Natasha’s hip with your own. “They’re really star-struck, aren’t they?”  
She smiled, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I guess they’ve never seen a girl-girl- couple before.”  
“No, ma’am,” Steve squeaked out as he looked at his shoes, a delightful rosy color staining his cheeks. You walked over to the poor soldier, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  
“It’s okay, Cap,” you giggled. “We don’t bite.”  
“Except each other,” the redhead corrected with a smirk, causing a laugh to bubble up and escape Clint’s lips.  
Breakfast was soon finished and you began plating up food for the guys. Tony and Clint continued to watch as you and Natasha stole kisses and butt-slaps, Bruce respectfully focused on his food, Thor shrugged and inhaled his pancakes, and poor Steve continued blushing whenever he caught you in lip-lock with the redhead.

After breakfast, the two of you retired to your room, which had kind of become her room too. You’d both decided to store your extra belongings in her room and your necessities in yours, turning yours into a shared bedroom.  
You lied on the bed, holding your arms out for her to join. She smiled and lied beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist. Your arms wrapped around her neck, her head resting on your chest. You kissed her forehead, causing her to tilt her head up and capture your lips. You kissed back passionately, tangling a hand in her hair. Her hand travelled to your hips and rested there, squeezing gently. You nibbled her bottom lip between your teeth, causing her to rest her weight on her free hand and push herself up until she was hovering above you. You wrapped your leg around hers, keeping her body pressed against yours.

Tony stared at the monitor in shock, jaw dropped open as he watched the scene before him.  
“Sir, are you sure you should be watching them?” JARVIS inquired.  
“Keep recording, JARV,” the billionaire replied distractedly.  
“Yes, Sir.”


	5. Smother Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat is protective

**Smother Me**  
Request for Alatariel  
A/N: Reader has a name.  
Not terribly graphic but there is torture.

Natasha often refused to let you go when she returned from a mission. She’d sit in bed with you, bringing you whatever food or drink or entertainment you required, holding you in her arms as though you’d disappear. She worried that you would after the incident. She’d make sure that JARVIS had an eye on your room when she left, just in case.  
You didn’t mind. She wasn’t overly protective like a mother, and you knew it was out of pure, deep-seated love. She nearly lost you, and she wasn’t going to take that chance again.

_The mission had gone wrong. Horribly wrong. It was simple, really. Well, no, it wasn’t. It involved sneaking into Hydra’s base unnoticed and hacking into their systems. Breaking into abandoned bases like Nat and Steve had previously done was easy – breaking into a current base was a little more difficult, and a lot more dangerous.  
Nat had just gotten into the computers with you guarding the door when it all went wrong. You’d been so focused on the outside guards that you hadn’t anticipated Hydra’s workers having a Hawkeye complex and a tendency of sneaking through the vents. One had sneaked up behind you and clocked you in the head with the butt of their gun, the other guard moving to tied up Natasha. She’d put up a little more of a fight, having heard the attack on you and taken a notice to your company. She lashed out with her arms and legs, successfully knocking out the henchmen that got you only to have more goons come in. She fell unconscious as you were dragged away.  
The redhead came too sometime later, instantly wondering where you were. She looked around frantically, keeping her Poker face in case anyone was watching her.  
“Your little friend has been taken in for questioning,” one of Hydra’s men stated upon discovering that Natasha was awake.  
“What did you do to her?” she demanded through gritted teeth. She ignored the burning pain igniting her wrists from her bonds and the ache in her spine from the pole she was tied to. All she cared about was you and your safety.  
The goon smirked. “Nothing… yet.”  
His smirk grew as a blood-curdling scream ripped through the base, emanating from your lungs. Natasha visibly cringed, fully able to imagine what they were doing to you._

_“Give us the redhead and we’ll let you go,” the interrogator offered.  
“No!” you cried. You were just as stubborn as she was. You wouldn’t just give her up.  
“Fine.” A knife slashed at your chest, your uniform already ripped from previous treatments. You’d lost count of how many slashes adorned your chest now, screaming blindly as the cuts crisscrossed.  
“How about now?”  
“No,” you choked out, head hanging tiredly. You were losing a significant amount of blood – any more and you’d be unconscious.  
“I gave you a chance,” he growled as his palm came in contact with your cheek, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. You gritted your teeth, knowing there would be a red spot later. At least it hurt less than the knife.  
The door busted open with exponential force, startling both you and the goon.  
“You!” he yelled, charging at the redhead in the doorway. She ducked easily, watching as he crashed to the floor on the other side of the door. She closed and locked the entrance, giving herself a buffer to free you. She untied your wrists from where they were bound on the chair’s armrests and your feet from the chair legs. She helped you stand on wobbly legs, her eyes glued to your bloody chest which heaved slowly with fading breaths.  
“Come on, Ira,” she whispered, bending her knees to hook one arm beneath yours, keeping her other arm around your back. She lifted you bridal style, slipping out the back door before more henchmen arrived._

You’d almost died from blood loss, having to stay in the infirmary for several months. Natasha sat by your side 24/7, refusing to leave except for food and restroom breaks. She rushed through such tasks, wanting to be right there when you awoke. She worried for your recovery, wondering if you’d lost just a little too much blood. She held the tears in when the others were around, though they knew how much pain she was in, watching your unconscious body. Everyone on the team knew of your relationship and dedication to one another.  
Only when she was alone with you would she let the tears fall. They streamed a river down her cheeks as she sat beside you, holding your hand in hers and running her thumb across your knuckles. She’d whisper apologies for not being able to save you sooner and beg for you to survive.

When you finally awoke, she wrapped her arms around you and engulfed you in an everlasting hug. You slowly scooted over on your bed, giving her room to join you. She did so eagerly but cautiously, overjoyed that you survived. Her arm acted as a surrogate pillow as you snuggled into her side, arm wrapped loosely around her waist. One arm held you around your back while the other rested on your head, fingers running through your hair. Her plump lips pressed to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings into your hair. Your nose nuzzled into her neck, closing your eyes as you fell back to sleep.  
She was always there, by your side, holding you close and keeping you safe. She had no intention to stop, and you had no intention to push her away.


	6. The Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songfic. Very short.

**The Way**  
Request for Jessica  
A/N: Sooo this is more explanatory than dialogue, which is new for me… but I went along with the song and I kinda love it.  
It’s also a lot shorter than most but I think I did good.

The redhead moved quickly, with purpose. Her hands moved faster than her mind, grabbing things from shelves and drawers and neatly stuffing them into the duffle bag on the bed. She didn’t even have to think about what to pack. Her brain was so accustomed to mission requirements by now she knew it all by heart.  
She wasn’t accustomed, however, to your reaction when you walked into her open room and saw her packing. You knew she had a mission, but she’d been afraid to tell you just how long she would have to be gone. That was new for the assassin, being afraid to share information. She’d intentionally kept information in order to protect her loved ones or save her own butt, but she’d never feared the repercussions that would come from sharing information. But she feared your reaction. This would be the longest mission she’d be going on since your friendship started, and she knew you concerned about her when she was away. You’d always had a crush on the redhead, though you’d only ever admitted it to Bruce, so you worried. You weren’t an agent, just a close friend of the team, and as such you constantly worried about the agents when they were in other states or countries, deceiving or fighting rival agencies.  
There was something about the way you looked at her when she was preparing to leave for a mission. The way your (e/c) eyes sparkled with concern and your plump lips formed a soft pout, not wanting the redhead to go. The way you fidgeted with your fingers, keeping your hands busy and trying to distract yourself from your concerns.  
There was something about the way her mind completely blanked when she looked at you. She was completely in love with you, not that she’d admit it. It wasn’t that she feared rejection – rather she worried about you. Relationships were dangerous for SHIELD agents. Family or romantic, agents having loved ones provided the enemy with leverage, and Natasha couldn’t risk anything happening to you.  
There was something about the way she couldn’t stop thinking about you, especially when you weren’t by her side. She always wondered if you were okay, especially when she was out on a mission and couldn’t check in with you. She wondered what was rolling through your mind, whether or not you were thinking about her.  
There was something about the way your name escaped her lips in a soft sigh as she slept, her dreams plagued with fantasies and nightmares involving you. She often dreamed that she expressed her vulnerability and asked you on a date, and you accepted with a bright smile and sparking eyes. Then the tables would turn and everything would go black before she’d find you tied up in a warehouse, bloody and broken, and she’d believe that it was her fault for getting you involved.  
There was something about the way your face lit up when she gave you a birthstone necklace for your birthday last year. The gem was in the shape of a star, outlined in silver, hanging from a thin silver chain. You’d held up your hair while she clasped it around your neck, the smile never fading from your lips as you hugged her in thanks.  
There was something about the way you pressed your lips to hers out of sheer adrenaline before coming to your senses and pulling away, mouth dropped in surprise at what you’d done and eyes widening in fear of repercussions. You ran before she could stop you and tell you not to apologize. She caught you in the hallway and you braced yourself for a fight before she pulled you into her arms and pressed her lips to yours. Once the initial shock wore off, your arms tangled around her neck and her hands rested on your waist. She pulled back, smirking at the confusion in your (e/c) eyes and the soft pants escaping your lips. She pecked your nose with a smile, telling you how much she loved you. You returned the smile and the sentiment, pulling her in by her neck for another kiss.  
There was something about the way you two became inseparable…


	7. Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take Nat to a Fall Out Boy concert

**Alone Together**  
Request for Wolf Princess Warrior

 

“Come on, Nat!” you whined, following the redhead into the kitchen. “Take a break!”  
“I don’t need a break,” she reasoned, grabbing a blueberry muffin from the plate on the counter.  
“Take one anyway,” you argued, grabbing a coffee cake muffin. “I already got the tickets. I need someone to go with me.”  
“Ask Tony,” she suggested. “Or Clint. Or Bruce.”  
“I don’t want them to go,” you replied simply.  
“I don’t want to go,” she stated, walking out of the room.  
You couldn’t ignore the pang of rejection that stabbed your chest as she sauntered away. You also couldn’t resist watching the sway of her hips as she walked out of view.  
You’d developed quite a crush on the redhead, but you’d been careful not to let your secret slip. Steve had found out and was sweetly cautious to keep it to himself, and he was the only one that knew.

“Come on, Nat,” Clint pressed as the two sat together, cleaning their guns. “It’s just a concert.”  
“You know it’s more than that,” Natasha argued, shaking her head.  
“(y/n) doesn’t,” Clint reasoned. “Maybe she’s looking for some girl bonding. Make it a Girls Night out.”  
The redhead grew quiet, looking at her lap.  
“I know you like her,” the archer stated softly. “More than you like anyone else. Just go with her. If something happens, you can get rid of all that sexual tension. If not, you’ll know for sure.”  
She caught his gaze, trying to think of a legit argument. Finding none, she let a small sigh escape her lips and nodded her head gently.

You were seated on your bed, the soon-to-be forgotten Fall Out Boy tickets sitting innocently on your bedside table. You wondered if there was anyone you could sell them too, now that you weren’t going. Even if you found someone to go with you, Natasha’s rejection still hurt, and the concert would just be a constant reminder that it could have been her.  
With a sigh you lied down against the pillows, looking up at the (f/c) ceiling. You were just reaching for your phone and earphones when a knock sounded on the door. “Who is it?” you called.  
“Nat,” a feminine voice replied. Steeling yourself and trying not to appear upset, you called for her to come in.  
“Hey,” she greeted, closing the door behind her.  
“Hi,” you replied softly. “Need something?”  
“I was wondering if you still had those concert tickets,” she admitted with a small grin.  
“Why?” you asked, pretending to be uninterested.  
“‘Cause I wanted to go with you,” she replied, sitting at the foot of your bed.  
“What changed your mind?”  
“We could really use a Girls Night Out,” she grinned.  
You allowed a small smirk to claim your lips. “Yeah, we do.”  
“So we’ll go to the concert and maybe get some food after?” she suggested.  
You nodded. “Sounds good.”

The drive to the venue wasn’t too awful, but parking was a downright nightmare. Everyone seemed to arrive at the concert at the exact same time, and it took very skilled pinball maneuvers to get around the masses. Natasha’s time as a spy served her well as she drove down the alley behind the amphitheater where not a single other car was parked.  
She offered you an excited smile as she turned off the car and got out. You followed her to the line of hundreds that lead to the door. An usher came out and divided the crowd into two separate lines – those with tickets and those without. That move bumped you and the redhead up a few feet, but you were still stuck several feet from the door.  
After a good half hour – and a lot of gratuity that you left as early as you did and had the time to wait in line – you made it to the front, offering your tickets to the man behind the counter for him to tear and hand back to you. Stuffing the ticket stub in your pocket, you all but dragged Natasha inside to find your seats.  
You’d managed to get floor tickets, leaving you and the redhead right in front of the stage with all the adrenaline-pumped moshers. You were slightly frightened of the large burly guys pushing each other around, but the assassin beside you knew her way around a fight and could easily knock them out should you ask.  
You screamed with the rest of the fans as Fall Out Boy claimed the stage, starting off with “Thanks For the Memories.” You sang along, dancing and jumping with the crowd, unaware of Natasha’s genuine smile watching your every move. She loved to see you so happy, and knowing that you were so happy because she came along with you made it even better.  
She only knew one FOB song and hoped they’d play it. She figured she’d definitely earn some points by knowing something about your favorite band.  
“I don’t know where you’re going,” Patrick Stump sang as the music started up. “But do you got room for one more troubled soul?”  
Natasha grinned, taking a leap of faith and placing her hands on your hips. You looked at the redhead in surprise, a blush dusting your cheeks.  
Her grin grew as she sang along, swaying your hips along with hers. “Let’s be alone together. We can stay young forever. Scream it from the top of your lungs, lungs, lungs.”  
Your grin matched hers as your arms draped across her shoulders. Of course she knew your favorite song.  
Her forehead rested on yours as she continued. “Let’s be alone together. We can stay young forever. We’ll stay young, young, young, young, young.”  
You giggled and danced with her, trying to focus on her voice. You’d never heard her sing but damn she sounded good. You could get lost in her voice. The song eventually ended, followed by claps and cheers and demands for an encore. Your (e/c) eyes bored into the redhead’s hazel irises. She leaned in, eyes fluttering closed. You followed suit, tilting your head. Your lips met in the middle and a spark exploded in your chest. You pulled her closer by your arms around her neck and she reciprocated, wrapping her arms around your waist. Your lips melded together perfectly, and she wasn’t too much taller than you, so you didn’t have to strain your neck to reach her lips.  
“Concert’s over,” she whispered against your lips.  
“Let’s take this back to your place, then,” you grinned, pressing your lips to hers once more.


	8. When You're Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha converts you

**When You’re Evil**  
Request for Jessica

 

You were one of the most feared lady villains ever known. Your powers of electricity made it much easier to sneak into buildings and do your business, killing the lights and security cameras and leaving the good guys without a scrap of proof. Everyone assumed it was you after hearing of your gifts, but no one could catch you red-handed.  
So how the hell did you get caught?

You currently sat on the floor, leaning against the wall of your glass prison. SHIELD was much smarter than you’d ever given them credit for. Not only had they managed to track you down and take you into custody, but they’d designed this particular prison to withstand your bursts of power. All of your lightning bolts bounced off the walls and dissipated, and the entire cage was sealed to keep you from reaching the electricity outside.  
A sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes. You were losing your touch. This would be a long interrogation.

They’d already sent in nearly every agent and Avenger they had. They hadn’t been aware of just how gorgeous you were when they were planning to take you in, but the men on the team certainly noticed as they came in to question you. Tony had spent his entire time flirting and trying to make a date rather than question your motives. Steve had blushed and stuttered under your gaze, still nervous around pretty women. Thor offered to take you home to Asgard as his princess. Clint had smirked and grinned and attempted to flirt. Even Bruce was distracted by your sparkling eyes.  
You’d shot them all down, having no interest in any of them. This began a testosterone battle amongst the men, teasing and jesting about why you rejected each of them.  
“I bet you intimidated her,” Tony would say to Thor.  
“And you disgusted her,” Clint would counter to Tony.  
“She’s probably not into birds,” Tony shot back.  
You could hear them arguing down the hall and laughed to yourself. Morons. It had nothing to do with their personalities or their looks. It was the simple fact that they were men.

You were humming to yourself when the door opened and booted feet thudded gently on the floor.  
“I hear you rejected all of their advances,” a feminine voice praised. “Kudos to you. They needed an ego bruise.”  
You smirked softly. “Men always do. They think they’re so wonderful.”  
“That’s why I swing the other way,” she replied, pulling up a chair and sitting down. You cracked an eye open and raised a brow.  
“That so?”  
She nodded.  
You ignored the flutter in your chest. You were a nation-wide wanted criminal, not a thirteen-year-old girl.  
“You’re very powerful, from what I hear,” she stated, smiling at you.  
“From what you hear?” you replied.  
She shrugged. “I haven’t seen your powers in person. I’ve just heard witness statements.”  
“Open the cage and I could show you,” you smirked.  
She chuckled and you refused to admit to yourself that her laugh was beautiful. “Not a chance, sweetheart.”

It took a few weeks of her consistently interrogating you for her to gain any useful information. The villain inside you swore off telling her anything they could use against you, but the woman in you wanted to tell her everything and let her make it better. The woman in you trusted her and wanted to be with her, and her admitting that she was batting for your team gave you hope.  
But then the villain in you told you that she could have been lying to appeal to your better nature, and that you had no chance at all.  
But why would she choose sexuality to get you to open up? How could she know?  
Perhaps one of the “witness statements” she mentioned came from an ex of yours. A lot of personal friends had seen your gifts when you first discovered them – one of your past lovers could have easily been SHIELD’s witness.

“I’m just trying to make a name for myself,” you told her one afternoon, feeling weak from so many weeks in the glass prison.  
“By being a criminal?” Natasha replied, raising a brow.  
“My family believed in success,” you sighed softly. “It didn’t matter what kind. My mother was a good-doing charity worker and my father was a high end criminal in England. They decided that they’d be proud of me no matter which side I was on. All that mattered was that I succeeded.”  
“Why did you choose to be a villain?” she asked, honestly interested.  
“When I would get angry,” you began, “the lights would flicker, and if I was upset enough, the power would go out. I realized that it only happened to me and tried to learn to control it. My father can control water so he guided me in commanding my gift. I didn’t see how making the lights go out could be a good thing and the more emotional I got, the harder it was to control it. Being a criminal seemed like my best option.”  
“What about now?” Natasha asked. “Your parents are dead and you’re in custody. What are you going to do now?”  
You looked at the ground. You’d had plenty of time to think on that particular subject, and part of you desperately wanted to switch over and be good – for her.  
“I’ve thought about it…” you admitted with a soft sigh. “I suppose I have nothing left, good or bad. It’s just me.”  
“You could stay with me,” Natasha offered suddenly. You looked up at her, eyes wide.  
“I like you,” she admitted. “I want you to stay.”  
A small smile grazed your lips. “Maybe I will.”

A few months later, you were settling into Natasha’s apartment, unpacking your things. She pecked your cheek as you set a box down on the floor of your now shared bedroom. You turned your head to catch her lips with yours before she sauntered away.  
She returned moments later with a mug of coffee in each hand, offering one to you. You took it with a nod of thanks as she wrapped her arms around your waist from behind. You looked around her bedroom, the objects doubled in quantity now that your own clothes and knick-knacks had been added.  
“Feels like home,” she smiled, kissing your ear.  
You smiled and leaned back against her. “Yeah, it does.”


	9. I Saw My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Nat babysit

**I Saw My Baby…**  
Request for Charlotte  
A/N: “Crying hard as babe could cry! What could I do?”  
The toddler is based off of someone. It took me forever to decide who.

You were used to physically demanding, emotionally compromising missions. Being a SHIELD agent was hard work, even with a partner.  
You’d been sent on dangerous information retrieval missions, deceptive recons, and even bombings. You’d fought alongside the Avengers in a fight to save New York from an alien monster invasion. You’d even had to pretend to be Natasha’s wife (not that you were complaining) for an infiltration. But nothing prepared you for this.  
Babysitting.

During the last battle, many lives had been lost, and the orphanage had been destroyed. A small child, about two years old, had lost his entire family. The press was particularly bothered, and kept pestering the authorities about what was going to be done. Fury offered to take in a few of the orphaned children, assigning them to his agents.  
As a result, you and Natasha, your regular mission partner, were settled with a two year old boy.

He was a cute child, and very well-mannered for being so young. His name was Mitch, and he had curly black hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was particularly fond of BBC shows and Tolkien movies, always ready to sit down and be distracted for hours on end.  
“At least he’s a low maintenance child,” you reasoned as Natasha sighed. She had very little experience with children, and her few experiences were less than pleasant. She could handle assassins, spies, aliens, and genetically modified soldiers, but she had no idea what to do with a crying toddler.  
“Hey,” you said, sitting beside her on the couch.  
Mitch sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, staring up at the screen as Sherlock and John investigated the death of the lady in pink.  
“You’ve got me,” you told her. “I know kids freak you out. But I have experience. I have younger siblings. You don’t have to do it on your own.”  
She nodded with another sigh, resting her head on your shoulder. You smiled softly at the action – or rather, the trust behind the action. The redhead wasn’t overly affectionate. Everyone knew that. But she let her guard down around you. She knew she didn’t have to keep up her stony façade with you. It took a lot of trust for her to let her emotions show. You and Clint were the only ones that saw her softer side, and because of her secret affections towards you, you saw it more.  
“I just don’t know what to do with them,” she admitted. “When they’re like this,” she paused to gesture towards Mitch, “it’s fine. They’re manageable. It’s when they’re hungry or hurt or sad that I freeze. I’ve never handled upset children. I don’t have motherly instincts.”  
“Some people don’t,” you shrugged. “It’s only a myth that all mothers know what to do, and we’re not even mothers. We can’t be expected to automatically be baby experts. I only know what to do because of my little sister.”  
She looked up at you with the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I’m glad I have you.”  
You knew she meant as a mission partner, but your stomach fluttered at the statement. “You’ll always have me,” you promised softly.

It was hard being in love with your best friend and co-worker. There were dangers to dating someone you worked with, especially someone of the same gender. And then there was the fact that it was Natasha, one of the least affectionate people you knew. You knew it wasn’t that she didn’t have emotions; it was just that she didn’t like showing them. She didn’t trust people. She’d been burned before, and she was very careful not to be burned again.  
Since you met her, you vowed that you’d always be there for the redhead, no matter what she needed. You’d be the sister she never had, the best friend she desperately needed, or the mission partner she could count on. You wanted more than anything to be the girlfriend she secretly wanted, but you didn’t know she wanted you. You were fairly certain that she wasn’t overly interested in dating, especially with her lack of trust in men, but you didn’t think she was overly interested in women either.

While you were trying to comfort her, Mitch wandered into the kitchen. A high-pitched scream was heard before you and the redhead jumped out of your seats, rushing into the adjoining room. The young brunette sat on the tile floor, tears streaming down his cheeks as blood slowly bubbled out of his finger. You ran to his side to inspect the damage while Natasha caught sight of the knife on the floor. She set the knife in the sink before turning to you, silently asking if he was alright. You smiled softly as Mitch turned to face her, holding out his injured hand. You knew Natasha had a bit of knowledge in first aid, needing it for taking care of agents during missions.  
She visibly hesitated before gently taking his small hand in both of her own. She then picked him up and set him on the counter so that he was almost eye-level with her. She grabbed a paper towel from the roll on the counter and gently wiped off the blood so she could see the severity of the wound.  
“It’s a small cut,” she said simply. “He must have tried to pick up the knife and dropped it. Can you get me a Band-Aid and some antibiotic?”  
You nodded and rushed to the bathroom. While you were gone, she moved Mitch to the kitchen sink and turned on the cold water, running his finger beneath it to seal the cut. Once you returned, she uttered a soft “thank you” before opening a bandage. Adding a dollop of antibiotic medicine, she wrapped the bandage around Mitch’s injured finger. His tears had dried and his sniffling ceased as the pain faded. He smiled up at Natasha, reaching out for her to hold him.  
Her eyes widened as her panic spiked. She turned to you, silently asking for help. You smiled and nodded towards Mitch, telling her to pick him up. She shook her head, causing Mitch to pout.  
“Come on, Nat,” you encouraged, moving to stand beside her. “I’m right here if anything happens. This will be good for you.”  
She looked at you unsurely before looking back at the toddler. He continued to look up at her through large brown eyes, lower lip jutted out in a pout. She hesitated before reaching her arms out, wrapping them around his waist. She slowly pulled him closer, causing him to giggle and wrap his arms around her neck. She stumbled in surprise, eyes widening as she held him against her chest. His legs wrapped around her hips, securing his new position. Her eyes darted between you and the child, slowly calming down.  
“See?” you grinned. “He loves you. You’re doing great. You just need to relax.”  
A soft smile graced her lips as she looked down at Mitch, whose head was buried in her neck. His chest rose and fell in soft breaths, informing you that he’d fallen asleep against her chest.  
“We should probably put him to bed,” Natasha whispered. You nodded with a smile and led her out of the kitchen. Since you didn’t have a guest room, as your apartment only had one bedroom total, so you’d set up a kid’s cot in the living room. SHIELD hadn’t discovered who the child belonged to, so you didn’t have any of his personal things. You’d dug through your supply closet and found spare sheets and blankets for Mitch’s temporary bed.  
Natasha carried him to the living room and lied him down on the cot, tucking him in. When he was found after the battle, he was clutching a stuffed otter. Said otter followed him anywhere, and Natasha plucked it from where it lay forgotten on the ground and set it beside him. He immediately grabbed ahold of it in his sleep, snuggling it to death.  
She slowly backed away, making sure he stayed asleep. She turned around to face you, smile still in place.  
“That was great!” you whisper-yelled, proud of her. “Was it as awful as you thought it would be?  
“No,” she admitted, sitting on the couch. “He’s a sweet kid.”  
You sat beside her, minimally surprised when she leaned against you. You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, smiling when she snuggled into your side. You only wished there was a deeper meaning to her affectionate side.  
She looked up at you as though reading your mind. “I have to tell you something.”  
“What is it?” you replied, brows furrowing. Why did she seem so serious?  
She sat up straight and turned to face you. You tilted your head in confusion. Her hands reached up to cup your face, holding you still. She leaned in, eyes closed, and pressed her lips to yours. Surprise flooded your mind while your heart thundered in your chest. You responded a second later, wrapping your arms around her neck. Her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. Your lips melded together perfectly, like pieces of the same puzzle.  
She pulled away for air, resting her forehead on yours. You beamed up at her, eyes sparkling. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”  
She chuckled, kissing your nose. “I love you.”  
“I love you too,” you smiled. You lied down on the couch as she hovered above you. She kissed you again, arms resting on either side of your torso. Your arms wound around her neck, getting lost in her lips.  
You eventually fell asleep tangled up on the couch, her head on your chest and your arms around her back.


	10. Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra wipes your memory

**Picture**  
Request for fieldmark346  
A/N: (c/n) means codename.

_“Come on, Nat,” you pleaded, jutting out your lower lip and tilting your head down, looking up at the redhead through your best puppy eyes.  
She sighed softly. She could never resist your pouty face. “Fine,” she agreed, sitting on the couch beside you.  
You squealed in triumph and held the Polaroid camera at arm’s length, lens facing you and Nat. You’d always wanted said camera, and after she’d bought you one for your birthday, you’d gone on a picture spree, reverting back to the mindset of a small child as you anxiously waited for the pictures to come out.  
You were currently trying to convince your girlfriend of one year to take a photo with you to commemorate your anniversary. She’d been against it, not liking having photos taken of herself and finding the whole “selfie” concept a waste of time. But between her love for you and your adorably pouty lips, she’d given in and was now seated on the couch beside you, arms around you and her head on your shoulder. You grinned bright enough to light up the room as you free arm wrapped around her back and the other snapped the photo.  
“Thank you, babe,” you smiled, putting the camera down. She looked up at the pure happiness on your face and knew that’s why she agreed to everything you wanted. Her being the reason for the smile on your lips made it all worth it.  
She stretched up and claimed your lips with hers, lingering for a moment before lying down on the couch. You immediately joined, your head resting on her chest and her arms wrapped around your back. Your legs tangled together comfortably as you fell asleep, her heartbeat being your favorite lullaby._

Natasha smiled sadly at the framed photo in her hand before turning it over, putting it photo-side down on the nightstand. She was more emotional than most people believed, and she couldn’t bring herself to pack up her memories of you, not even after six months of you being gone. But it hurt to see your smiling face in that photo, to remember that day, and not be able to turn around and see you standing there.  
She would dream of you. Most of her dreams were memories of your times together, before and after you’d become a couple. She’d awake the next morning smiling to herself, and for a moment she’d forget it was just a dream. She’d roll over, expecting you to be slumbering beside her, only to find cold and empty blankets. Her heart would fall but she wouldn’t let it show on her face as she got dressed and ready for the day. If anyone asked, she was okay. She was moving on. But she never did.  
Some of her dreams were nightmares. Memories of the moment you were kidnapped, and her mind’s cruel ideas about what happened to you after. She remembered hearing your voice screaming her name, begging for her to save you but she couldn’t. She blamed herself for your disappearance. It was her fault you were gone. She’d waken the next morning – or in the middle of the night – in a cold sweat, salty tears streaming down her cheeks, her breath coming out in heavy pants. Sometimes another Avenger would come to check on her, either because she screamed in her sleep or because JARVIS was concerned. But they got used to her nightmares and let it be, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it anyway.

Her heart stopped when she saw you again. The team had been sent on a mission to fight a handful of Hydra agents. They’d split up, half of the Avengers fighting and the other half retrieving the information they needed. Natasha was on the retrieval half, being a well-known hacker. You’d been the one guarding the door to the room they’d sneaked into.  
“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked emotionlessly, aiming your gun at her.  
“I could ask you the same,” she replied, mentally cursing herself for the shakiness in her voice.  
“I work here,” you said, cocking your gun. “You don’t.”  
“(y/n)…” she breathed, looking at you with sad eyes.  
“Who the hell is (y/n)? My name is (c/n).”  
“Hydra must have done something to her,” Clint said, pulling Natasha away. “She’s not (y/n) anymore.”  
Natasha reluctantly followed, not even fighting against you. You watched her go with confusion etched into your features.  
Your fellow guards ran up to you. “Why did you let them go??”  
“They didn’t fight,” you replied slowly. “They didn’t even take what they came for.”

Back at the Tower, Natasha was a wreck. She’d honestly tried to let you go, believing you to be dead or long gone. Knowing you were alive and working for Hydra hurt, but what hurt more was that you didn’t know her.  
“What did they do to her?” Natasha asked brokenly as Bruce made a pot of tea.  
“They must have tampered with her memory, like they did to Bucky,” Steve noted.  
“That means we have a chance, right?” the redhead asked hopefully. “You got Bucky’s memories back.”  
“It’s possible,” Steve nodded slowly. “But we’ve got to convince her to come with us first.”

The team organized another plan to infiltrate the base, pretending to be on a retrieval mission. They assumed that you’d be guarding and planned to capture you.  
Once there, Natasha and Clint headed inside while Tony and Steve remained outside for backup. As expected, you were guarding the inside with a gun.  
“Why are you back?” you asked. “You’re not stupid. You knew this place would be guarded.”  
“Yes, we did,” Clint nodded, pulling out his bow. You aimed your gun, ready to fire if he tried to shoot you. Natasha tried to distract you, talking as though she knew you. When you were together, her favorite method of distraction was to cup your face in her hands and kiss you, blocking out the rest of the world.  
She couldn’t exactly do that now.  
Before you could question her motives, something sharp hit your side. You let out a groan of pain before you collapsed to the ground, unconscious.  
Clint held up his newly acquired tranquilizer arrows before lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

They set you up in a chair, tying your hands behind your back. Clint stood by, ready to add ropes if the situation called for it. Natasha understood that, as an enemy agent, you’d try to get away, but since they were asking you personal questions, they wanted you to be as comfortable as a hostage could be.  
You awoke slowly and instantly went on the defense, trying to get out of your restraints. “Where the hell am I?”  
“You’re in the Avengers Tower,” the redhead replied. She was kneeling in front of you, worry and concern evident on her face.  
“Why?” you asked.  
“Because we need you,” Clint replied.  
“Holding me hostage won’t get Hydra’s attention,” you stated. “They lose men all the time. They’ll move on and find more.”  
“Then you won’t mind staying for a while,” Tony summarized. You simply pulled at your restraints.  
“What do you need me for?” you wondered.  
“Believe it or not,” Steve began, “you used to be one of us.”  
You looked around at all of the serious faces and shook your head. “You’re delusional. I was never an Avenger.”  
“You were,” Steve insisted. “Hydra kidnapped you during a mission. We haven’t seen you for six months.”  
“Why I don’t I remember it, then?” you demanded.  
“Hydra fixed your memory,” Bucky explained. “They did the same thing to me. They don’t want their new recruits to remember their old lives. This way, they don’t have to worry about you turning against them.”  
“Unless their old lives come back to fix it,” Tony mused.  
“Do you have proof?” you asked, looking between the blond and the redhead. They seemed to be the most interested in your memories.  
Steve looked at Natasha who nodded slowly, almost reluctantly. She left the room and returned a few moments later carrying a box.  
“Are you sure you want to show her all of that?” Tony asked. “Being told she was an Avenger is going to be hard enough to prove without telling her she had a girlfriend.”  
You turned to look up at the billionaire, cautious confusion on your features. You turned your attention back to the redhead as she began going through the box.  
“This was taken the day you became an Avenger,” she said, holding up a photo of you and Tony. A banner was strong across the wall behind you, spelling out “Welcome aboard, (y/n)!” You were wearing a black body suit outfitted with a utility belt. You could see a gun and a few knives tucked into said belt. Tony’s arm was around your shoulders, and both of you were grinning widely.  
“This is from the last birthday party we threw you,” Steve said, handing you a different photo. It was you and Natasha sitting at the table. You had just unwrapped your Polaroid camera and were grinning at it, the cake on the table completely forgotten. A bell seemed to go off in your mind as you looked at it, and a gasp escaped your lips.  
“I remember that…” you breathed.  
“What about this?” Natasha asked softly, holding up the photo from your anniversary. You gazed at it carefully, taking in the happiness and affection displayed between the two of you.  
You then looked up at the redhead with a mix of emotion in your eyes. “Nat…”  
The others took that as their cue to leave. Natasha stayed behind and untied your bindings.  
“What do you remember?” she asked carefully. You leaned forward hesitantly, hands reaching out to cup her face.  
“I remember you,” you whispered. “Missions, and my birthday, and our anniversary… It’s all in bits and pieces but… It feels right.”  
“That’s because it is,” she smiled, holding back tears. Her arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, her lips claiming yours. You responded immediately, tangling your hands in her hair.  
“I’ve missed this,” she admitted in between kisses.  
“I’m never leaving again,” you promised, holding her close.


	11. You Belong With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High school prom

**You Belong With Me**  
Request for Elsa Haddock  
A/N: The request was for best friends turned girlfriends so I tried to think of what scenarios would cause that outcome and I thought, “High school!”

Prom night.  
It was a week away, and you were dateless.  
It wasn’t that you couldn’t find a date. You’d turned down plenty of men in the last month.  
The issue was that you had a date in mind, but she was… well, a she, and virtually un-dateable. She found frivolous things like school dances and ice cream socials to be childish and a waste of time, and though she was your best friend, she wouldn’t even go for you.  
You wanted to date her, more than anything. But, as far as you knew, that would never happen, because she was as straight as Clint Barton’s arrows. You hoped that at least she’d go with you as a friend, but she’d made it clear that she wanted no part of it.  
Speaking of Clint…  
He was your best friend next to your favorite redhead, and the only one that knew about your crush on her. The two of you had tried to convince Natasha to go with both of you as a group, but she turned that down as well.

“Are you going to prom?” you asked him one day at lunch.  
He nodded before stuffing his face with a cheeseburger.  
“With whom?” you demanded. Last you heard, his girlfriend – who went to another school – couldn’t make it.  
“I’m going by myself,” he replied. “No reason to miss out on a night of fun just because I don’t have a date.”  
You looked down at your chicken nuggets with a sigh. “I probably won’t go.”  
“You could go with me,” he offered. You looked up at him with a raised brow.  
He shrugged. “We can sit and complain about the women we love not being present. It’ll be great.”  
You thought about it before nodding. “Sure, Clint. That sounds fun.”

Prom night arrived quickly. Clint was planning to pick you up at your house, so you busied yourself with getting ready. It still hurt that Natasha wouldn’t even come as a friend, but you shook it out of your mind as you admired your reflection. Your dress was (f/c) and hugged your curves, the neckline a strapless sweetheart and the skirt reaching your ankles. On your feet were black strappy heels and your (h/l) (h/c) locks were curled elegantly. Mascara thickened your lashes and your (e/c) orbs were lined thinly with black eyeliner. (f/tone) lip gloss shimmered on your lips, which curled into a smile. Dammit, you were going to have fun tonight.  
As you descended the stairs, you could hear Clint chatting with your parents. You’d told your mom the situation, and she knew how close you were to the aspiring archer. She took pictures of you as Clint slipped a yellow rose corsage on your wrist. You, in turn, pinned a still-blooming yellow rose to his lapel before turning towards the camera and smiling brightly.

Once at the prom, you found a table to sit at and draped your pleather jacket across the back of your chair. Clint found the snack bar and returned with two glasses of fruit punch. He offered you one as he sat down, and you accepted it with a smile.  
“Music sucks,” Clint grinned, earning a giggle from you. They were playing some horrid Justin Bieber (1) song, and you wondered why anyone was dancing.  
“What is this garbage?” you asked, sipping your punch.  
“I’ll go request a song,” he offered, standing up and walking towards the DJ. He seemed to speak with the DJ for a moment before writing something on a piece of paper and heading back to you.  
“What did you ask for?” you inquired.  
He simply smirked. “You’ll see.”

The night progressed with a mix of music, some you liked, and some you didn’t. You and Clint danced regardless, determined to make the most of it. You sang along to Kary Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl” and he belted out Fall Out Boy’s “Thanks for the Memories.” No matter how much you pressed, he refused to tell you which song he requested.  
You finally sat down for a break as Ke$ha’s “Die Young” ended. You inhaled your punch and nibbled on a pile of mini pretzels, smiling at your friend.  
“Thanks for tonight,” you said, slightly breathless.  
“Anytime,” he replied. “But it’s not over yet.”  
You quirked a brow as the next song came on. You immediately recognized the guitar intro and grinned, singing along. “You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset. She’s going off about something that you said. She doesn’t get your humor like I do.” (2)  
Clint looked up at someone standing behind you before smiling and walking away. Confused, you turned around to see none other than Natasha standing there, smiling softly.  
“What are you doing here?” you asked as she sat down.  
“You wanted me to come,” she replied.  
“But you didn’t want to,” you countered.  
She stood and offered you a hand, and you noticed that she dressed for the occasion. She wore a tight knee-length black number with a sweetheart neckline and thin straps.  
“You got dressed up,” you commented as you took her hand. She led you to the middle of the dance floor, wrapping one arm around your waist.  
“You wanted me to,” she repeated, swaying to the beat. Your arms rested on her shoulders as the song continued.  
“Can’t you see that I’m the one who understands you? Been here all along so why can’t you see? You belong with me, you belong with me.”  
“You belong with me,” she whispered, leaning down so that she was level with your ear. Your eyes widened and a gasp escaped your lips.  
“Really?” you asked.  
She smiled and pulled you closer, resting her forehead on yours. You closed your eyes, taking in the moment as the song continued.

“You belong with me, you belong with me.”  
The song finally ended.  
You opened your eyes and looked up at the redhead. She closed hers and leaned in, claiming your lips. You melted against her, tightening your arms around her neck. You didn’t care that people were staring. All you cared about was her.  
You pulled away from the kiss and smiled up at her, standing on your toes to whisper, “you belong with me.”

 

(1) I understand that there are some weirdos out there that like Justin Bieber – I am not one of them, and this is not meant to offend you. It’s my story, and I will make fun of who I please.  
(2) I didn’t decide the song right away. I was gonna have it be something fun and upbeat to make you feel better, but then I thought maybe a love song cuz I had Nat come in, and then I remembered the title of the story and it kinda fit both.


	12. Protector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat saves you from a drunk in the streets

**Protector**  
Request for XD  
A/N: A shorter one. I literally just sat down and wrote the whole thing in one go.

You softly hummed your favorite song as you sauntered down the street. The sun was setting in the distance, casting streaks of red and orange and pink across the sky. It was still light enough for you to see your path without much trouble, though you knew these roads by heart anyway, so you could still make it home if it was pitch black.  
You used to be scared of walking through the streets alone at night. Living in a town full of superheroes came with super villains, and you weren’t sure you were completely safe from their crosshairs. Actually, you were less safe than any regular civilian. You didn’t have any powers that they would want to use for their evil needs, but you were dating an Avenger of all people, and the bad guys certainly loved hostages.  
Your slip-resistant shoes made no sound against the pavement as you headed home, so the thuds of booted feet sounding behind you sent a chill up your spine and made you walk faster. But the faster you went, the faster the thuds came. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you wondered if the mysterious stranger behind you was after you specifically or just coincidentally placed. A rough hand gripping your wrist and spinning you around answered that question.  
“Hey, pretty lady,” the man sneered. You winced and turned away. He reeked of alcohol as he pushed his face closer to yours.  
“Hey now, don’t turn away,” he cooed, bringing a hand up to run along your jaw. “I just wanna have some fun.”  
“Please leave me alone,” you whimpered, closing your eyes, trying to pretend he wasn’t touching you.  
“That’s not very nice,” he said, his creepy smile turning into an offended frown. The hand on your jaw slid down to grip your throat, causing you to gasp for air. Your delicate fingers immediately reached up, desperately trying to pry his hands off of your neck.  
“Now, we’re gonna have some fun,” he stated with a growl. He leaned forward without warning, pressing his lips to yours. You let out a desperate whine as his scruffy beard scratched your face. His other hand began on your shoulder and trailed down your side, his fingers dancing along your ribs. His grip tightened when he reached your hip, his thumb trying to slip under the hem of your shirt. For a drunk bum, he was a hundred times stronger than you, and you were trained to fight. But your fear and panic clouded your mind and took over your sense of strength. You were too worried about what he wanted to do to you to push him off.  
As his hand slid up your bare belly, just about to reach the underwire of your bra, he was roughly pulled away. Fear made your body weak and you dropped to your knees, curling into yourself. You heard the man yell before a loud thud sounded, and you glanced up enough to see that he’d been thrown against the pavement. You could see very familiar black boots standing by his side with an equally familiar gun aimed at his head. You lifted your head more to see Natasha standing over the man. Her face was contorted with anger and protectiveness as she ordered him to leave before she pulled the trigger. He scrambled to his feet and took off, heading back to the alley he had previously been sleeping in.  
The redhead’s features softened as she looked at you, running over and kneeling down. “Are you alright?”  
You simply shivered and hugged yourself tighter, ducking your head and trying to erase the images of what he was trying to do. Warm arms wrapped around your body, pulling you against Natasha’s chest. You buried your face in her neck and let out a whimper. She ran a hand through your hair and kissed your forehead. She hated when she wasn’t able to walk you home. Most nights, she would meet you at work when your shift ended and either take you out somewhere or walk you back to your shared apartment.  
She stood up, keeping her arms around you. She gently pulled you to stand and turned to head home. You leaned against her, sighing softly. She was always there when you needed her.

Once home, she sat you down on the couch with your favorite fluffy throw before heading into the kitchen. She filled your kettle with water and set it on the stove before pulling two mugs out of the cupboard and fetching your favorite flavor of tea. When the kettle howled, she turned off the heat and filled the mugs with water. She then gripped one mug in each hand and carried them out to where you sat in the living room. She set the mugs on the coffee table before turning to the collection of DVDs sitting by the TV and scanned the selection to find your favorite. While you blew out the steam rising from your mug, she found the right movie and popped it into the DVD player before turning on the TV and sitting beside you. She smiled as you immediately snuggled into her side, setting your mug back on the coffee table. She wrapped her arms around you and played the movie, watching as you relaxed in her arms. You buried your face in her neck again, snuggling up to her beneath the blanket.  
She shifted to lie down, securing her arms around your back. She pressed a kiss to your forehead and carded her fingers through your hair, knowing it soothed you. Your eyes found the TV as your movie began, and soon the memories of the crazy drunk in the street were wiped away.  
You let out a yawn and closed your eyes, your head resting on her chest. You could hear her heart beating under your ear and you let a small smile cross your lips. Cuddling up to your redheaded assassin was one of your favorite things.  
“I love you, (y/n),” she whispered, resting her head on yours.  
“Love you too, Nat,” you mumbled before slipping into unconsciousness.


	13. I Put a Spell on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have the perfect opportunity to hit on Nat

**I Put a Spell on You**  
Request for Icewind

“Just talk to her.”  
“I can’t, Tony. What chance do I have?”  
“None if you don’t give it a shot,” he countered, crossing his arms.  
You let out a sigh and ran a hand through your hair. “What makes you think she could ever feel the same? It takes a miracle to find someone you’re attracted to that’s also attracted to you. It’s even harder when the person you’re attracted to is of the same sex. Not everyone has your charisma and reputation, Tony. I have nothing to offer her. And you’re pushing me under the assumption that she bends that way. I bet she’s straight as an arrow. And I think she’s got a thing for Clint.”  
He chuckled and shook his head. “Birdboy’s got a girlfriend a few towns over. He keeps her a secret so SHIELD enemies don’t go after her. There’s nothing between him and Nat.”  
“There could be someone else then,” you reasoned. “Or maybe she just doesn’t date. When’s the last time you heard of her going on a date or even talking about dating?”  
He shrugged. “She’s secretive. She’s an agent, remember? They’re not supposed to have open book personalities. She probably keeps it all to herself.”  
You deadpanned. “So she’s probably got a boyfriend that no one knows about. I have a huge chance, here.” Sarcasm dripped from your voice.  
“Just try,” he finished with a slightly pleading tone. “I know how much you like her. I think you have a shot.”  
You sighed again, picking up your mug of room-temperature tea from the coffee table. You downed the last of the no longer soothing beverage before standing. You began walking towards the hallway to go back to your room, looking over your shoulder and offering Tony a “Goodnight.” He returned the sentiment as you walked away.

The next morning didn’t go very well.  
You felt fine, just like every other morning. Nothing felt out of place… Until you went to the bathroom. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, noticing that not only were you taller than you had been when you went to bed, but your features were thicker; less angled. Your lips were thinner and your forehead wider, your hair shorter and your limbs thicker. A frightened sound that couldn’t exactly be defined left your lungs, and you realized that your voice was deep and a tad rough.  
Taking a shower was… an adventure. You blushed when you looked down at yourself. You’d never even showered with a boyfriend. You quickly washed and conditioned your now short hair, making the process as simple as possible. None of your clothes fit your male body, so you had to ask for help.  
“JARVIS?” you called.  
“Yes, Miss… Miss (y/n)?”  
“Yeah, JARV, can you send Tony in here?”  
“Of course.”  
Within minutes, you heard a knock on your door. You called for your guest to come in, sighing in relief when it was Tony. He snickered as though trying to contain himself before he busted into a laughing fit.  
You rolled your eyes with a groan. “Shut up, Stark.”  
He only laughed harder upon hearing your voice.  
“Tony, I need clothes. None of mine fit now.”  
Once he composed himself, he nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll lend you some clothes. Do you know how this happened?”  
“Not a clue,” you sighed, sitting on your bed with a towel around your body. “Just woke up like this.”  
He let out a chuckle as he turned on his heel, heading back to his room.

“You know,” Tony began as you made your way to the kitchen, “this is the perfect opportunity. We’ll tell everyone you’re a cousin or something, and you can talk to Natasha without her knowing it’s you.”  
You bit your lip and stirred your coffee. “Maybe. How am I supposed to do that without it being weird? Why would the new guy just sit down and have a conversation with an assassin?”  
“You could try hitting on her,” he suggested. “You should be able to find out if she’s into guys or girls that way.”  
“Maybe…”

Later that day, you found Natasha reading at the kitchen table. You subtly watched her as you made yourself a sandwich, waiting to see if she noticed you. When she gave no sign of doing so, you took a seat beside her and began eating.  
“Natasha, right?” you greeted, pretending you didn’t know her.  
“(boy/n), right?” she returned, not looking up from her book.  
“Yeah,” you replied, looking down at the table. Tony had told everyone that your name was (boy/n) and that you were his cousin.  
“What do you want?” she asked monotone, still reading.  
You straightened yourself and tried to take in a deep breath of courage. “A date would be nice.”  
When she looked up at you, tearing her attention away from her story, you formed your lips into a smirk and leaned in closer to her. You tried to be charming and suave, but you were fairly certain you were failing.  
“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” she countered.  
Your heart fell to your belly and you tried to remind yourself that she was rejecting (boy/n), not (y/n). “Why not?”  
She looked you up and down and shrugged before going back to her book. “I’m not into men.”  
Excitement exploded inside you as you looked at her, trying to keep your poker face. “That so?”  
She nodded. “That is so… (y/n).”  
Your eyes widened and your face paled. “W-what?”  
A soft smile graced her lips. “I know it’s you, (y/n). Tony told me what happened.”  
Anger bubbled inside you as you realized the billionaire had set you up. “Did he happen to mention how it happened?”  
She nodded. “He got Loki to make him a potion. He slipped it in your tea last night.”  
You clenched your fists under the table, your lips set in a thin line as you gritted your teeth. That bastard! “Well, forgive me for bothering you. I’ll leave.”  
When you turned to leave, she grabbed your wrist. You turned to look at her, your anger softening when you saw the emotions in her eyes. She stood from her chair and stepped closer, placing a hand on either side of your face.  
“What are you doing?” you whispered as she stood just an inch away.  
“Breaking the spell,” she replied. She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours. You gasped softly in surprise before responding to the kiss. You then felt yourself shrinking, but you were too lost in her lips to register what was happening.  
When she pulled back for air, she smiled at you. You realized you were now her height, as you had originally been. Looking down at yourself, so you saw that your body had returned to normal. You looked back at her with confusion. “How?”  
She simply smiled. “Tony explained the potion to me. It was laced with a spell that was meant to turn you into a man until you resolved the issue. I assume the issue was asking me out?”  
You looked down with a blush. “I didn’t think you’d be interested. I didn’t know if you were even into girls or dating in general… I didn’t think I had a shot.”  
“And Tony convinced you to try?” she guessed.  
“He’s been trying for a while, telling me that I should talk to you anyway and see what happens.” You continued looking down at your feet. “I was too afraid.”  
Her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. You looked up at her in surprise. She grinned back at you, leaning in to kiss you again. You responded immediately, draping your arms over her shoulders and tangling your fingers in her curly red locks.  
“I love you, Nat,” you whispered in-between kisses.  
“I love you too,” she replied, pulling you closer.


	14. Drown

**Drown**  
Request for Wolf Princess Warrior  
A/N: Co-written by TheSilverScorpion. First date didn’t really fit with the story so I made it their anniversary. It’s also a little shorter than the others.  
“She takes the reader on their first date which is scuba diving in Australia.”

"Are you ready?" Natasha asked you with a smile.

Ever since the first time she saw you, Natasha knew you were different. You weren’t the girly girl that liked sparkly jewelry or long walks on the beach. You were tough, albeit sensitive, and you craved adventure. You liked gifts that had meaning and purpose, such as a blanket or a new coffee pot. Your ideal date was a hike through a forest or exploring an abandoned area.  
She liked your tough side. She wasn’t one for being emotional or particularly girly, so she enjoyed finally having another female around that didn’t wear pink or glitter. You enjoyed letting her show you her weapon collection which included showing you how every weapon worked. She enjoyed teaching you how to use them, should you ever need to defend yourself. More than once your birthday or Christmas present was a weapon of some sort, be it a Taser, dagger, or handgun.  
She tried to make every date an adventure. For your first date, you explored an abandoned house in the center of an abandoned field. After all the gods and aliens, you certainly believed in ghosts, which only made you more excited about exploring. You both went in armed with flashlights and knives in case you ran into anything dangerous.  
Your first birthday present to her was the key to your apartment. She spent the night a lot and you had discussed moving in together, so you figured she needed one. It was always good to have a spare, and you trusted her more than anyone you’d ever known.

"Ready as ever!"  
At the same time, you both dove into the Australian waters.  
For your first anniversary, she bought you both plane tickets to Australia. She wouldn’t tell you her plans until you got there. Once you did, she took you to a shop that sold high-quality scuba gear, leading you to figure out that she was taking you scuba diving.

You looked around at the beautiful coral and fish that swam around it. Through your goggles, you could clearly see every detail in the ocean. You held Natasha’s gloved hand under the water, trying to smile at her though you weren’t sure she could see it. You swam together before she let go, wanting to explore a different part of the water. As you started to go deeper in the water, you got closer to the coral. You flipped around for a second to look at your girlfriend, who was lagging behind a little, but when you turned back around, the tube connecting the oxygen to your face mask got caught in the coral. This going unnoticed, you tried to swim away, but got held back. You paddled harder, causing the tube to break on the coral. You began to panic, trying to swim ashore before you passed out, but you had gone in too deep. Nat noticed the obstructed air tube, and how your paddles towards the shore gradually became weaker, and now it was her turn to panic. She rushed towards you, but not soon enough. You had already passed out, your life now in the hands of the redhead. She placed her breathing piece in your mouth, trying to get you as much air as possible.  
Once she got to the boat, she frantically placed you on the floor. You were still breathing, but unconscious. She yelled at the man driving the boat to step on it, never breaking her gaze from you, and for the first time in a long time, she began to cry. Since you were still breathing, there was nothing more Natasha could do except wait and worry.

You woke up on a bed in an unfamiliar room. It had cream colored walls and ceiling, and the bed you were lying in was soft and plush. You carefully sat up and looked around, realizing it was a fancy motel room. In the back of your mind you wondered where Nat had gotten the money, but it wasn’t a pressing issue.  
You looked to your side to find your worry stricken girlfriend holding your hand.  
"Natasha?" you asked.  
"Oh, thank god you're awake!"  
"What happened babe? Are you okay?"  
Natasha managed a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. What about you? Do you remember anything?"  
"Not much. I remember you swimming towards me, then everything going black. I remember warm rain. Nat, were you crying?"  
The red head felt tears well up in her eyes, but she held them back. "I was just so worried that you weren’t going to make it. I didn’t get to you in time and you passed out, and I didn’t know how much water you took in or how much time you had… I just, I love you so much, and I can't-" You interrupted her with a passionate kiss. Natasha pulled you closer, only pulling away for air.  
"Thank you," you said softly. "You're the best girlfriend anyone could ask for. You don't deserve to have to worry so much. I promise I'll always be right here by your side."  
"I love you," she said, pulling you in for a hug.  
"I love you too."


	15. I Miss You

**I Miss You**  
Request for AliceKimPraysForParis  
A/N: Co-written by Wolf Princess Warrior  
“Maybe them meeting after a long time apart or something similar.”

If there was one thing most people tried to avoid, it was long distance relationships. They were tiring, strenuous, and very lonely. From that loneliness usually sprung mistakes, misunderstandings, and regret. However, you and your long distance relationship partner were not “most people.”  
Your girlfriend of almost four years was an agent that went around the world, going undercover, performing espionage, putting on fake smiles and batting her eyelashes to get who knows what and going who knows where for her job. You, instead of performing in the shadows, preferred to perform in the spotlight on the silver screen. You still batted an eyelash here and there and put on fake smiles for the paparazzi. Discovering acting as a teenager, you developed a knack and a love for it, and when you graduated high school, you moved to L.A. to attend college and try your luck in acting. By some miracle, you had landed a role in a feature film, and since then you were Hollywood’s next up-and-coming star.

How you had met Natasha Romanoff was actually at one of Tony Stark’s legendary parties, but at the time you knew her as Natalie Rushman. You were never one for showing up at such parties, but as a rising star you wanted to keep up your appearances and decided to attend. When your eyes caught the redhead’s from across the room, there was something similar to a magnetic pull between the two of you. The night was spent in some small talk between the two of you until Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes showed up and the party went to Hell with Iron Man suits trashing the place and debris flying through the air. You had exchanged numbers with the redhead, but it wasn’t until during the fiasco at the Stark Expo had you used the number. You didn’t get a response from the supposed Stark employee until a few days afterwards when she showed up at your apartment wearing black cat suit adorned with guns and an unfamiliar logo on her sleeves.  
She reluctantly spilled her real identity as a secret agent and that pursuing a relationship between the two of you wouldn’t be easy. You decided to go for it anyway.  
Even after years of minimal face time, there was still a strong communication between the two of you. After the Battle of Manhattan occurred, the first thing she did was call you to let you know she was ok, and she did the same thing after the fall of SHIELD. It made the time you spent with her in person all the more special and intimate.

Sitting in your trailer for the next movie, you gazed at your phone with your thumb hovering over Natasha’s number, anxious because she was in Europe for almost three months and she had tried to contact you every few days, though it was still hard. Plugging your headphones into your phone, you allowed yourself a few minutes of rest, knowing it would be a while before you were called to the stage.  
When the time came for you to return to work, you looked sadly at your phone. The notifications bar showed no sign of a single call or text from the assassin, which made you sigh. You constantly reminded yourself that she couldn’t control the work she did, and you knew she would call as soon as she got the time.  
You made your way to the set, smiling sweetly at your co-workers and stage hands, accepting a cup of coffee from your assistant and downing it quickly before you went into hair and makeup. Your makeup artists noticed the lack of enthusiasm in your eyes and smiled sympathetically. She knew of your plight, how badly you missed Natasha and how long it had been. You offered her a small smile as she began twirling your hair and applying blush to your cheeks.

A few more months of filming and the movie was ready for theaters. A limo arrived at your apartment to pick you up and take you to the premier. You’d been to a couple of premiers before, but then you’d been excited, because you’d been in contact with a certain redhead. You would plaster a smile onto your lips when you saw your small group of fans, but it wouldn’t be genuine.  
You wore a skin-tight black dress that had once been Natasha’s. You now had co-ownership of it and were free to wear it without her permission. It went to your knees and revealed a small amount of cleavage, and with the right shoes it made your legs look longer than they were. You pulled your hair back into a ponytail and applied a light layer of makeup along with some blood red lipstick before heading out to the limo.  
You were blinded by the flashing camera lights when you accepted an usher’s hand and stepped out of the car. You smiled and waved to your fans, signing a few autographs and posing for a few photos. You were still new to show business, but you had a small following, and that made you feel a little better.  
A familiar flash of red caught your eye as you walked closer to the theater door. A familiar set of hazel eyes and a familiar smirk had you walking off to the left, desperate to know if it was real or just your imagination.  
A black fedora sat atop her head, casting a shadow across her face, but you would know those features anywhere. She wore jeans, a tank top, and a leather jacket. It wasn’t her usual attire, but you mused she didn’t want to be recognized.  
“Nat?” you breathed, unable to speak any louder.  
“Hey, Superstar,” she grinned. You leaned over the red rope and wrapped your arms around the agent. She laughed and returned the hug as your fans squealed in delight. More cameras flashed, wanting to catch the happy reunion.  
“What are you doing here?” you asked.  
“I’m not going to miss my girlfriend’s movie premier,” she replied. “I got some time off.”  
The usher leading you down the red carpet tried to pull you away, but you wouldn’t budge.  
“She’s my plus one,” you told him. He nodded and unhooked the rope long enough for Natasha to cross. You linked your arm around hers and led her inside.  
When you found your seats, you kept a hold on her hand and snuggled into her arm, not letting go through the entire movie.


	16. Kissing in the Streets

**Kissing in the Streets**  
Request for Jewel  
“Natasha having flashbacks to when she was being trained as an assassin. She and the reader were both top of the class, evenly matched, and always trying to beat each other. Both started training at night to beat each other and one night they are there at the same time. The reader challenges Nat to a sparring match and while they fight they notice how beautiful the other is and how much they care about each other.”

You’d been at the Institute since you were a child. You’d been abandoned at birth, and the orphanage you were dropped off at had given you up easily to the training Institute.  
They weren’t kind. You trained through most of the day, only allowed six hours of sleep and a couple of half-hour meal breaks. It was grueling and hard, leaving you exhausted and often malnourished. The guards and officers were harsh, never offering sympathy or compassion. They were cruel, roughly throwing trainees around when they misbehaved and locking them in solidarity cells to get their obedience back.  
You were a soft person. You weren’t born for this lifestyle, but you’d learned to live with it. You didn’t have the “back off of me” attitude that a lot of the orphans had. You’d managed to make a couple friends, including one of the most closed off people in the Institute.  
Her name was Natasha.

You and Natasha were the top two trainees at the Institute. Though you respected her being slightly above you, you were dying to show her up. You got along great, which was a big bonus since you were roommates. You just wanted to show her you were just as good, since she normally pointed out that she was better.  
You both, unbeknownst to each other, began training even when it wasn’t required. You would often stay up all night, trying to get better. You were both strong and very skilled with weapons.  
You often spend your nights in the lone sparring room, knocking back a punching bag and venting out the frustrations you’d built up over years at the Institute. You could easily lose track of time, fantasizing about having a life outside of training. You knew the next day would be hard, since you didn’t get a lot of sleep anyway and now you were staying up late, but you didn’t care. You needed this time to yourself. You often lied awake at night, thinking about what you would want to do if you ever escaped. Instead of lying awake uselessly, you decided to use that time of insomnia to train harder and beat Natasha.

One night, you spotted a familiar redhead in the lone sparring room. She was also venting out her feelings on a poor, defenseless punching bag. You quirked a brow as you pulled ace bandages from your locker and began wrapping your knuckles.  
She took a break as you began with your own bag. She watched you from a distance, wondering if you’d seen her. She sat on the bench and took a long swig from her water bottle, watching you go at the bag.  
She admired the way your (h/l) (h/c) locks were pulled back into a messy bun. She bit her lip as she watched your muscles tighten and pop as you flexed them. She watched your every move, no longer caring if she was being discreet. She finished off her water bottle before standing and approaching you.  
“Hey,” she greeted monotone.  
“Hey, Nat,” you countered, blowing out a breath and taking a step back. You turned to offer her a small smile, picking up your own water bottle.  
“When did you start night training?” she asked, sitting on the bench close to you.  
“A few weeks ago,” you replied. “You?”  
“About the same,” she said. “You couldn’t sleep either?”  
You shook your head. “My brain’s been running in circles lately. I can’t slow it down enough to sleep.”  
She nodded. “Same here. You’re really good, you know. I’ve seen you train. I’m surprised you haven’t surpassed me.”  
“No one’s going to surpass you,” you countered. You turned to look at her, and your breath was taken away. Her hazel eyes sparkled in the dim light of the training room, and her short red curls were stuck to her neck with sweat. Even in the afterglow of training, she was gorgeous.  
“You could,” she replied. Nothing more was said as you stared at each other. Your heart raced as you leaned in, hoping she wouldn’t back away. She leaned in as well, her plump lips placing perfectly beneath yours.

After that night, you two admitted how much you cared for one another. You kept it a secret from everyone else in the Institute, and you were glad you shared a room so you wouldn’t risk anyone finding out.  
It became clear that you wouldn’t make it much longer. You were both at the top of the ranks, so you were treated better than the rest of the trainees, but your relationship could suffer if you stayed. You both longed for a life outside of the Institute, and you constantly dreamed about what you wanted to do with your freedom. Whatever it was, you would do it together.  
You decided to escape. During your late night training, you and Natasha planned it out. She was going to sneak into the warden’s office while he was asleep and steal his map of the grounds. It displayed all of the exits on the premises and had markings to show how many guards were posted at each entrance. She would also take the guard roster so you would know which guard was on duty at what time. Though most of the officers were asleep when the trainees were, they had a few graveyard workers to prevent people just like you and Natasha.  
She was sneaky like a rat in the dark, so getting past the guards was easy. She knocked him unconscious, and it was far enough away from everyone else in the building that no one would hear the thud of him hitting the concrete floor. You stole his ID card and security keys so no alarms would sound when you opened the large steel door that separated you from the outside world.

You and Natasha stood in the grass, amazed at your success. No sounds came from inside the Institute, meaning no one had noticed your absence. You began running through the field, getting as far away as you could. You grasped her hand and pulled her down the street, grinning ear-to-ear as you went. She let out a laugh as you made your way into town. You had nothing but the clothes on your backs, which for both of you was a tank top, yoga pants, and tennis shoes. Since you had nowhere to go, you headed to the homeless shelter. It would be a good place to get on your feet until you figure out what to do with your lives.  
As you stood under a street lamp in the quiet, empty town, you took Natasha into your arms. Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you close. Your grin was covered by her lips, and you gladly reciprocated the gesture. You nipped at her lower lip, your hands on her hips. You didn’t have any money or anywhere to go, but you had each other, so you would work it out.


	17. Love Me, Love Me

**Love Me, Love Me**  
Request for Gianna The Weird One  
“Natasha and the reader have been together for a while. Nat starts to be distant always hanging out with Clint, and making up excuses not to hang out with the reader. The reader immediately thinks bad thoughts like 'she doesn't love me anymore' or 'she's seeing someone else'.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Tony assured you as you paced back and forth in the kitchen of Stark Tower.  
“What makes you so sure?” you asked, sitting on a stool at the counter.  
“You two have been together for two years,” he reminded. “She wouldn’t just up and leave you. Who would she leave you for, anyway?”  
“She’s always with Clint,” you pointed out as he handed you a cup of tea.  
He let out a laugh and sat beside you. “You know they’re just friends. She would never do that to you. Birdboy has a girlfriend, anyway.”  
“How do you know?” you sighed, sipping your tea.  
“I’ve met her,” he replied, drinking a soda. “I don’t know what Nat is up to but I’m sure it’s not what you think. She and Clint probably have a mission coming up and they need to train together.”  
“But Nat always tells me when she has a mission,” you reasoned. “She knows I worry when she has to leave for more than a few days and she likes venting to me about work.”  
“It’ll be fine,” Tony insisted. “Just give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around and explain everything.”  
You let out a sigh and nodded, deciding to let it go for now.

It only got worse over the next few weeks. Not only was Natasha always spending time with Clint, but she began blowing off her plans with you. It broke your heart to never spend time with your own girlfriend. You couldn’t help but think she was trying to leave you. She was the type of person to burn bridges rather than go over them, so you wondered why she didn’t just end the relationship.  
You spent most days sitting on your bed, crying over the crumbs of your relationship. You tried to read or draw or write like you used to, anything to make yourself feel better, but it wasn’t helping. You blasted music from your stereo, but after a few happy, upbeat songs, your phone would play something sad or sappy, and it would remind you of Natasha. That would only lead to more tears, and you’d already gone through three pints of ice cream.  
Instead of sappy rom-coms, your distraction of choice was horror movies. You pushed away the sad thoughts of reality and lost yourself in the blood and gore of the newest Texas Chainsaw Massacre. You had a cup of your favorite drink in your hand as you rested against your pillows which were propped up against the headboard. A fuzzy blanket covered your legs as the numbers on the clock turned to 1:43 A.M.  
The door to your bedroom, which you used to share with Natasha, creaked open. Your eyes darted towards the door as you wondered who would bother you without knocking. Your mind was still lost in the loud ripping noise of the chainsaw and the blood-piercing screams eliciting from the victims in the film. You paused the movie in surprise when you saw a familiar head of red curls come into the room.  
“Nat?” you whispered.  
She looked up in surprise. “I didn’t know you were awake.”  
“What are you doing here?” you asked softly, looking down at your lap. You’d gotten so used to her being gone that you didn’t know how to feel.  
“I always come in here at night,” she replied, closing the door. “You’re usually asleep when I come in.”  
“Why come in at all?” you asked, trying to steel yourself. “You’re never around during the day. Why come home at night?”  
She looked at the ground and padded over to the bed. “You have every right to be mad at me. I know it probably doesn’t help, but… I always come in at night, so I can cuddle with you. I have to get up early so I’m gone before you wake up, but I’m here with you every night.”  
“You do that?” you asked as she sat on the edge of your bed. You scooted over without thinking about it, making room for her.  
She nodded. “We’re still dating, right? Why wouldn’t I come home to you?”  
“You’re never here when I need you,” you said with spite in your voice.  
She winced. “I know. I’m sorry.”  
“Whatever,” you said with a sigh, lying down. You turned off the TV and DVD player, turning away from Natasha and curling under the blanket. She pulled the blanket over herself and lied behind you, draping one arm over your waist and sliding the other under your head. You couldn’t deny how good it felt to have her arms around you again. You were mad… but you still snuggled closer, wanting to feel the warmth of her body heat and hear the thudding of her heart.

The next morning, you awoke to a familiar warmth at your back and around your waist. You smiled softly in your sleepy state before you woke up more fully. Your brows then furrowed in confusion and you turned over to face Natasha smiling softly at you.  
“Morning, gorgeous,” she greeted quietly.  
“Morning,” you replied slowly, confused. “I thought you said you had to get up early.”  
“Not today,” she said. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, babe.”  
Warmth flooded you as you looked up at her. You didn’t know what she’d been doing for the past few months, but whatever it was, she was putting it off for your birthday.  
“What do you want to do today?” she asked, resting a gentle hand on your cheek.  
You shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it.”  
She quirked a confused brow. “You don’t have any plans?”  
You looked down, slightly embarrassed. “Well… I wasn’t expecting you to be here… So I was planning on watching movies and… being sad…”  
She pulled you into her chest and closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, babe. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

She convinced you to get out of bed with a few persuasive kisses. You’d missed her lips so much that it was almost counterproductive. You stayed in your pajamas, having decided that you didn’t want to go anywhere. She held your hand and led you to the kitchen where a pot of coffee was already brewing. She poured a cup and doctored it up the way you liked before handing it to you. You smiled at her before realizing that you hadn’t seen any of the guys.  
“I asked them to let us have the Tower to ourselves for the day,” she explained when you asked.  
“Tony left his own Tower?” you asked, raising a brow.  
She laughed and shook her head. “I tried. They’re all hanging out on the lower levels. There’s another kitchen and rec room down there. The top half is all ours.” She sat beside you at the table and kissed your cheek.  
“Nat…” you began softly.  
She hummed in reply and looked at you.  
“Where have you been?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “For months now you’ve been blowing me off and spending all of your time with Clint… What’s going on?”  
To your surprise, she smiled. She grasped your hand and stood, dragging you away from the kitchen. She led you downstairs to Clint’s archery range. It was empty, save for all of the archer’s equipment. In the corner was a large decoratively-wrapped box, complete with a bow and a gift tag.  
You followed her as she approached the box and stood aside. She smiled and nodded towards it, telling you to open it. You turned and knelt down to the box, reading the gift tag. The box was addressed to you from her. Smiling softly you ripped off the colorful “Happy Birthday” paper to reveal a large rectangular box. It was laid on his side and in the middle was an opening tab. You pulled out the tab and lifted the lid, gasping at what you saw.  
“I know Clint’s been teaching you archery,” Nat said, standing beside you.  
Inside the box was a hand-made combat bow and custom explosive arrows, along with a leather quiver with your name stitched into the strap.  
You turned to look up at Nat. “Is this… what you’ve been doing?”  
She nodded. “I asked Clint to help me make you an archery set. It’s completely custom made. The arrows have built-in explosives. They detonate five seconds after they hit a target, but they have to hit it with extreme force to go off, so they can’t accidentally go off in your quiver.”  
You threw your arms around her and pulled her close. She chuckled at your excitement and wrapped her arms around your waist.  
“Thank you,” you whispered.  
“Anything for you,” she replied.  
“I just… I didn’t know what to think…” you said, pulling away and looking at the floor. “I thought… Maybe you wanted to leave me… Maybe there was someone else.”  
She took your face in her hands, tilting your head up to meet her eyes. “I would never leave you, (y/n). I couldn’t. I love you far too much to even think about being with anyone else. I know I haven’t shown it very well lately, and I’m sorry. But it was all for you. This,” she paused to gesture to the bow and arrows, “was all Clint and I were doing the past few months. And like I said, I came home every night to be with you, but you were already asleep when I got in and still asleep when I had to leave.”  
You nodded, leaning forward to rest your forehead on hers. “I believe you, Nat. I understand now. I just didn’t before last night and it hurt… I honestly thought you were leaving me…”  
She pressed her plump lips to yours, removing any fear or doubt you had left. You could feel the love and desire in her kiss. You knew it was meant only for you. You returned it passionately, wrapping your arms around her waist. She leaned forward, gently pushing you back until you were lying on the floor. You knew you would never have to worry about her leaving you. You loved each other, and that was that.


	18. College

**College**  
Request for Annie  
A/N: College AU. There wasn’t a request so I made one up.  
“You keep running into a pretty redhead who keeps offering to help you out.”

You headed to the library, messenger bag slung over your shoulder. Green Day’s “Holiday” blared through the headphones setting comfortably over your ears, allowing you to block out the hustle and bustle from nearby students. Wearing headphones, with or without music playing, seemed to alert people that you weren’t paying attention and deterred them from speaking to you.  
You padded softly into the library, depositing your previously checked out books before heading over to the psychology section to find a book for your class. You had a research paper to do on how people reacted to being interrogated, such as body language and tone of voice, and you had already gone through several books.  
You scanned the titles of books once you reached the right aisle, pouting when nothing sounded the least bit helpful. You’d read most of the books they had, but you felt like there was something missing. You could look it up online, of course, but you preferred physical books and the internet was a last resort. Sitting down to read helped you relax, even if it was for homework.  
You looked up at the top shelf and spotted a title that seemed like it would prove to be sufficient, but it was just out of your reach. You were on the shorter side of the women’s height scale and your fingertips barely reached the shelf the book was on, much less the book itself. You stood on your tip toes, which allowed you to brush your fingers against the spine, but it wasn’t enough to grab it.  
You jumped in surprise, letting out a yelp when soft fingers covered yours. With your free hand you slid your headphones off your ears, draping them around your neck as you turned to see who had disturbed you. You found a very attractive redhead standing beside you, a small smirk on her lips as she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the book and pulled it off the shelf.  
“Looking for this?” she asked.  
You nodded silently.  
She read the title. “How to Know What Someone is Thinking When They’re Being Interrogated?” (1)  
You nodded again.  
“Business or pleasure?” she asked, her smirk remaining.  
“Research paper,” you replied after clearing your throat.  
“Interesting,” she replied, holding the book to her chest. “I need it for my research paper, too.”  
“You’re in Psych 215?” you asked, feeling ashamed that you didn’t recognize her.  
She nodded. “With Mr. Coulson?”  
“Right,” you agreed. “Well… That’s the only copy…”  
She linked her free arm around yours and led you out of the aisle, heading to one of the surprisingly comfy couches stationed in front of a glass coffee table in the center of the library. “I guess we’ll just have to study together.”

You couldn’t say that you were particularly friends with Natasha Romanoff, but you really liked her – more than you should. You discovered in junior high that you much preferred girls as dating partners, which lost you a lot of friends and earned you a lot of torment. That was when you became shy and reserved, only speaking when spoken to, and avoiding attachments.  
She was very open about her sexuality, which leaned the same way you did, and gave you a spark of hope. You tried to tell yourself that she was just friendly and bold, and that her constant smirks and winks and sitting noticeably close to you were just part of her personality.  
She began speaking to you in class, sharing notes and offering to partner with you when Mr. Coulson instructed you to split into teams of two. You agreed, of course, partially because you didn’t want to seem rude and partially because you would take any excuse to spend alone time with the redhead.  
You desperately wanted to make a move, to ask her out to lunch or coffee or just lean over and kiss her, but you refrained. She probably didn’t see you that way. She was just flirty. So for now you settled with study dates- because she always called them study dates- and group homework projects.

You tiredly trudged across the parking lot, “Harder to Breathe” flowing through your headphones. It helped wake you up as you padded towards the coffee cart that sat a few feet away from the library. It was the start of a new term and it was the first time this year you’d had an early morning class, so you were desperate for caffeine before your legs gave out from fatigue.  
You stumbled up to the cart and slid your headphones down to your neck, reading the poorly-written chalkboard menu hanging behind the barista. You ordered your favorite drink in a sixteen ounce cup, and while he was preparing it, you dug through your purse for loose change. You didn’t feel like pulling proper bills from your wallet, which was at the bottom of your purse, so you began pulling out singles that were stuffed into the top. In your tiredness, you accidently pulled out other things, and before you knew what was happening, half of your purse’s contents were scattered on the pavement beneath you. You let out a tired groan and knelt down, plucking loose coins and a pocket notebook and several pens from the ground.  
You saw black boots standing before you as you finished picking up your belongings. Natasha was smiling down at you, a much softer expression than her usual smirk. She knelt down as well, picking up a few folded scraps of paper, handing them to you so you could stuff them back into your purse. She offered you a hand, which you accepted and she helped you stand. She then approached the coffee cart and ordered her own drink, offering to pay for whatever you had ordered as well.  
“You don’t have to do that,” you insisted, pulling loose bills from your bag again. Natasha reached out and placed a hand on yours, ceasing your movements.  
“I want to,” she countered, handing the barista her debit card.  
“Are you sure?” you asked.  
“We don’t need you spilling half your purse on the ground again,” she teased, handing you your drink. “Besides, there is a price.”  
“A price?” you asked, tilting your head.  
She nodded, walking away from the coffee cart and linking her free arm with yours. “The price is a date.”  
“A date?” you asked, eyes widening and heart racing.  
She nodded again. “You and me, lunch today, I’ll pick you up at your dorm.”  
A small smile crossed your lips. “That sounds great.”  
Once you reached your first class, which you happened to have together, she pressed a kiss to your cheek before heading into the class room, saving you a seat beside her.

 

(1) I didn’t feel like looking up a book so I made one up.


	19. The Ball Drop

**The Ball Drop**  
Request for fieldmark346  
“could you do a natasha and reader fic were they celebrate new years avengers style and you constantly try to get your girlfriend natasha under the mistletoe to kiss her at midnight and when you do all the guys just stare at the 2 hot girls making out.”

Natasha wasn’t big on public displays of affection. She would occasionally hold your hand, and on dates she would wrap an arm around you because she knew it reminded you that she loved you. But she avoided kissing or anything intimate. She preferred to save that for the privacy of your bedroom.  
The team knew about your relationship. Their acceptance had never been an issue. You clicked with Nat and Clint the most when you met the team, and he was the first person to learn of your crush on the redhead and her crush on you. He spent months trying to get the two of you together and was very adamant about being the one responsible when you finally became a couple.

The holidays were still rolling through, and you were spending them with the Avengers. Thanksgiving and Christmas had gone smoothly, with fancy parties and tons of food and gifts. You had made matching Santa hats for Natasha and yourself so you could wear them while passing out gifts. Repeated trips to the store had been made in order to stock up on eggnog and candy canes, and there was still plenty left over when New Year’s came around.  
The Christmas tree was still upright and decorated in the main living room of the Tower. Rainbow, twinkling, and icicle lights were tacked around the room in the creases between the walls and the ceiling. You had taken dozens of photos with you and each member of the team, plus a few with all of you together and several of just you and Nat. She normally wasn’t big on photos either, but for the holidays, and for you, she gave in.  
You were all gathered in the main living room in preparation for the New Year’s ball drop. Several bottles of wine, champagne, sparkling cider, and other liquors cluttered the kitchen and living area. You had made sure to leave the branch of mistletoe stapled above the doorway, often catching a couple of the guys walking under it. They were all good sports about it, offering each other a peck on the cheek to keep everyone’s spirits up. Many of the guys had walked through with their ladies, so kissing in front of everyone wasn’t a problem then.  
You had a champagne glass in your hand as you sat on the couch. You took sips from it every now and then, not wanting to get too intoxicated before the countdown. You were trying to plan ways to get Natasha under the mistletoe. She didn’t mind a kiss here and there, especially in the safety of the Tower. She had explained that she just didn’t like being physical in public, surrounded by strangers. She had no problem kissing and cuddling around friends. You knew that if you asked her, she would kiss you under the branch no problem. But the entire fun purpose of the tradition was to catch someone off guard and on the spot, so you wanted to sneakily lead her there without her being conscious of your intention.  
“We forgot the sparklers,” you noticed, looking around. “I’ll go get them.” You rose from the couch, leaving your champagne on the coffee table, and headed down the hall to the storage room where all of the fireworks were waiting to be lit.

You padded back into the room a few minutes later, looking at the packages in your hands. Just as you lifted your gaze to the room before you, warm hands cupped your face and soft lips pressed against yours. You dropped the sparklers and rested your hands on Natasha’s hips, pulling her close and returning the kiss passionately. You heard Tony wolf whistling in the background, followed by what sounded like Pepper smacking his shoulder. You smirked into the kiss and nibbled Nat’s lower lip, causing her to growl softly and pull you closer. Her hands fell from your face, wrapping around your waist possessively. You slid your hands up her sides and neck to her face, one hand holding her neck while the other reached up to tangle in her hair. She sighed contently against your lips before pulling back for air.  
“That’s what I call holiday spirit!” Clint cheered before downing his beer. You chuckled softly as you looked back at Nat.  
“What was that for?” you asked, still holding her neck.  
She glanced up, causing you to do the same. Your eyes widened when you realized you were standing in the doorway beneath the mistletoe.  
“I know you wanted to catch me here,” she said with a small smirk. “I thought I’d take the initiative.”  
You grinned and leaned in to peck her lips again. “You’re the best.”  
She knelt down to pick up the sparklers that you’d dropped, reaching out to grab your hand and lace your fingers before heading back into the room. She set the packages on the coffee table for people to grab and light as they wanted them. You sat on the couch beside her and rested your legs in her lap. Her arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against her chest as Tony turned on the wall-sized flat screen TV so you could all watch the ball drop in the city.  
Excited and in the holiday spirit, you leaned against Nat’s side and counted down with the news. Everyone shouted along with you, and when you got to “one,” Natasha cupped your face and turned it to look at her. You smiled as she leaned in and captured your lips, and the ball drop was forgotten as everyone turned to watch you and the redheaded assassin making out on the couch.


	20. Aces

**Aces**  
Request for everybluemoon  
“I could be the only Starks daughter he doesn't know about until he donates money to the charity for a volleyball game that's the sport I would play and I meet Natasha and it could go onto a few years and I would be her girlfriend dating her and live in the tower.”

You tightened the hair tie that currently held your (h/l) (h/c) locks in a high ponytail before taping the bottom of another box to continue packing your things. You and your girlfriend of two years were going to move out of Stark Tower and into your own apartment. You had been staying in the Tower for about three years, ever since finding out that your biological father was none other than Tony Stark.  
You picked up one of your volleyball trophies from its place on top of your dresser and smiled fondly at the memory of winning it and meeting Tony for the first time.

_Both teams were evenly tied. You were on one of the best college women’s volleyball teams in the state, and you were competing against the other best team. Your coach, teammates, and friends all told you that it would be an easy win, but you hadn’t been convinced, and looking at the tied score, you weren’t any more convinced now. One more shot to either side and the game would be over. Your nerves were bundling in your belly and you could feel sweat trickling down your back, making your blue-and-white jersey stick to your skin.  
You aced the next serve, resulting in an immediate point and winning the game for your team. (1) Your teammates began cheering and jumping, some of them crushing you in hugs. You could see the other girls groaning in defeat, soon to be consoled by their disappointed coach. Your coach, on the other hand, was joining in on the hugging and squealing.  
You headed off the court to get some water and saw a familiar man sitting on the bleachers. He had a Balbo beard and wore fitted jeans and a black blazer over what appeared to be an ACDC shirt. He was watching you with obvious interest, though you had no idea why.  
You turned to your coach. “Hey, who’s that guy?”  
She followed your head gesture to the man in the nice clothes and nodded. “That’s Tony Stark. You know, Iron Man? He donated a lot of money to our team so we could get new jerseys and practice equipment. I guess he decided to come see the game.”  
“Tony Stark donated to our team?” your teammate gushed excitedly. “That’s amazing!”  
“Why us?” you wondered. Of course, you were grateful that Mr. Big Shot deemed you important enough to donate to, and that he had enough free time to come see the game he was supporting, but you couldn’t help but wonder why. He didn’t know any of you. You were just a random group of college girls.  
As you went to the locker rooms to change into non-sweaty clothes, you noticed that Tony Stark remained sitting on the bench while everyone else headed outside to wait for the players. No one else seemed to care, but you were dying to know why he was still here, and why he had come at all. Once you were clean and dressed, you slung the duffle bag that held your game clothes over your shoulder and headed back through the gym. Tony stood when he saw you, and you saw a small smile on his lips.  
“Good game,” he commented when you were close.  
“Thanks,” you countered. “And thanks for the donation. We really needed new jerseys.”  
He nodded. “Anytime. It was nothing.” He seemed to want to say more, but your mother approached you at that moment. She pulled you into a hug before turning to see who you’d been talking to, and her eyes widened when she saw Tony Stark.  
“Tony,” she greeted in shock. Tony? First name basis? Did she know him?  
“(mom/n),” he greeted in calmer but equal surprise.  
“What are you doing here?” your mom asked.  
“I donated to the team,” he replied simply. “And I wanted to meet her.”  
“We talked about this.”  
“I never agreed to your suggestion. I deserve a chance to know my daughter.”  
You stared between them. “Daughter?”  
Tony furrowed his brows. “She didn’t tell you?”  
You turned to your mom. “You told me my dad died in the military.”  
She let out a sigh. “I didn’t want you to know that your father ran out on us.”  
“Because you didn’t tell him that you were pregnant,” Tony defended. He turned to you with a soft sigh. “Your mother and I were having problems. We were constantly fighting. I was planning to leave civilly; no lawyers or big court trial. She could have whatever she wanted of our assets, and as much money as she needed to be on her own. I just couldn’t take the fighting anymore. She didn’t tell me about you until I ran into her a few years later and she had a child. I never knew anything more than your name.”  
You turned to your mother and she nodded. From then on, you decided to get to know your father._

That had been going well. You moved into the Tower shortly after that, since the cost of a dorm room was rather expensive. Tony even paid for the rest of your college tuition, and you had just graduated.  
Natasha knocked on the open door and leaned against the frame. You smiled at her and she sauntered in to your now empty room. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, setting her chin on your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.  
“You all set?” she asked.  
“Yep,” you replied, folding closed the last box and taping it shut. “All set.”  
She smiled and sat on your bed, which was the only thing not packed. You were staying one more night in the Tower, so you would stuff your bedding into a duffle bag the next morning. You sat beside her and leaned into her side, settling down against the plush feather pillows. She lied on her back and pulled you closer by your waist. You snuggled into her side and draped an arm over her abdomen, your head resting on her shoulder.  
“You ready to move tomorrow?” she asked, kissing the top of your head.  
“More than ready,” you countered, tilting your head up to kiss her jaw. She hummed contentedly in response.  
“I’m excited,” you admitted.  
She smiled. “Good.”  
You let out a happy sigh and closed your eyes. It was only the middle of the day, but you were tired and very much enjoyed naptime with your girlfriend. Her arms tightened around you as you reached down to pull the feather comforter up and over your bodies.  
“I love you,” you murmured before drifting into unconsciousness.  
“I love you too,” she whispered, carding her fingers through your hair and falling asleep with you.

 

(1) In case you guys haven’t gotten the hint, I know next to nothing about sports. I Googled some volleyball moves but I still don’t know very much. I don’t care about the details, just let me know if it sounded okay or completely awful.


	21. Something New

**Something New**  
Request for wolf girl 4797  
A/N: Sequel to “Kissing in the Streets”   
“I think the sequel should be them joining the avengers.”

For a few months after escaping, you and Natasha stayed at the homeless shelter, using aliases in case people from the Institute came looking for you. She went by Natalie and you went by (g/name). It was a tolerable time when you had each other to lean on. The shelter was dirty and grungy and some of the residents were less than kind, but no one tried to hurt you and the volunteers kept you fed. The floor was hard tile but it was better than the ground outside. The shelter had plenty of spare blankets, and you and Nat always shared everything, using each other’s body heat to make up for only having one blanket.  
News of two young women escaping from the Institute spread like wildfire. Guards were constantly on the news, giving statements though they were all dumbfounded. Many people were impressed by the skill of the two young women, able to break free from such a heavily guarded place. Others thought they were stupid to try leaving, and were convinced that the workers would track them down soon.  
Their comments worried you, but every time you heard them talking, Natasha would place a hand on yours and holding you reassuringly. Being in her arms made everything better. She would remind you where you were and who you were with, and that you two were safe now. You would nod in understanding and curl into her chest, grateful that you had her.

Unbeknownst to you, the Director of SHIELD had caught wind of your escape. He was impressed by your willpower and sneaking skill. He was looking to recruit new agents, and you two fit the bill. He contacted the Institute and got your information. No one had seen your escape, but the security camera footage was clear enough for the director to identify you, comparing the image on the camera to the ID pictures on the trainee roster. Once Fury had your names and photos, he sent a couple of agents into the city to look for you. They showed your photos to every passerby, eventually narrowing down the possible end locations.  
Everyone was in a flurry when two SHIELD agents entered the homeless shelter in search of (y/n) (l/n) and Natasha Romanoff. When they explained that they were sent to recruit you for a better life as SHIELD agents, you became tempted. You and Natasha mulled it over before deciding to follow the agents back to Headquarters.

Fury welcomed you with stern friendliness. The other agents tried to warn you that he could be cold, but it was nothing you and Natasha hadn’t faced before. Your reactions- blank faces noncommittal nods- impressed him further. You were the makings of perfect agents.  
You hadn’t been making a point of your personal relationship with Natasha, but no one seemed to mind when they caught on. You would often be found holding hands or sitting a tad closer than just friends, but no one said a thing. You appreciated their open-mindedness. Having someone as tough as Natasha as your girl did a lot to ease your concerns, but you still feared someone disliking your choices and disliking you by association. It wouldn’t change your relationship if you did run into a homophobe, but it was nice to know that, for the most part, the people you were coming to trust accepted you fully.  
Shortly after becoming agents, you met the Avengers. They were nice enough. Since you had nowhere to go, Tony Stark offered you rooms at Stark Tower. Natasha was hesitant, but you were excited. Tony and Steve gave you a tour of the Tower, at least the most important areas (each kitchen, the party room, each rec room, the guest bedrooms, the lab). Since he had so much room to spare, you and Nat were given a floor to yourselves. There were four bedrooms but you only needed one. You didn’t have enough belongings between the two of you to even fill one room, let alone two, and you liked staying together.  
There was a bathroom beside the room that you had chosen, and down the hall were a rec room and an apartment-sized kitchen. It was cozy and homey and you knew you’d like it. Nat was unsure, but that was more her cautionary nature than disliking the Tower.

A few months after joining, you were seated on the king-sized bed in your shared room. Natasha was in the shower just next door, and you were reading a book. You had a handful of books in your small amount of belongings that you liked to read when you were stressed and needed to relax. Right now, you were just wasting time until Natasha was done. Your training was done earlier than hers, so you had already showered and changed into a comfortable ensemble.  
Training wasn’t hard. It was mostly weaponry and field training. You already had the physical combat and defense down, thanks to the Institute. Clint Barton was teaching you how to use a bow, and other agents were teaching you and Natasha various gun work. Other agents taught you how to be convincing liars for when you were out on the field, interrogating the enemy or pretending to be their friend.  
You heard the bathroom door open and smiled to yourself. You placed your bookmark- a satin ribbon that had wormed its way out of your pajama pants- on the page you finished before closing the book and setting it aside. The bedroom door opened and Natasha sauntered in, one towel covering her body and another wrapped around her hair. She smiled at you before rummaging through her dresser to find clothes for the evening. Once she was dressed in a tank top and pajama shorts, she sat beside you on the bed, bringing you into her arms. You curled against her chest, your head on her shoulder and one arm draped across her belly. She carded her fingers through your hair and pressed a kiss to your head.  
“I love you, Nat,” you murmured, nuzzling your nose into her neck.  
“I love you too, (y/n),” she replied softly, closing her eyes. You fell asleep in each other’s arms, happy that you had a new home.


	22. Little Princess

**Little Princess**  
Request for Emily  
“I was wondering if you could one where Nataasha gets de-aged ( to around 4 or so ) and female reader is told to babysit them until it wears off? It could happen by an experiment gone wrong by Bruce, or a spell from Loki.”

“I don’t want any part in your games, Loki,” Natasha commented as she walked away from the god, heading towards her room.  
“Oh, come on,” Loki replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Were you always so hard, Romanoff? Don’t you ever have any fun?”  
“Not very often,” the redhead shrugged. “I’ve been an assassin for a long time. It doesn’t leave much time for fun.”  
“I bet there was a time when you actually enjoyed yourself,” the brunet mused, crossing his arms and staring pointedly at her.  
“That time is gone,” Natasha argued. “Go find someone else to bug. I’m sure Clint or Tony would love to help you in pranking your brother.”  
“Fine, fine,” Loki surrendered, holding up his hands. “I’ll leave you alone, Black Widow.” He watched her go, a smirk forming on his lips.  
“For now.”

“(y/n)!” a very frantic Clint cried out, rushing towards where you were seated at the kitchen breakfast bar.  
“Clint?” you responded in amused confusion, taking a sip of your coffee.  
“Help!”   
You turned to look at him, finding him with his arms outstretched towards you and a small child clasped between them. It was a little girl around the age of four, with vibrant red hair and piercing green eyes.  
“Help with…?”  
“It’s Natasha!”  
You stared at the child Clint was holding out to you, admitting that there were striking resemvlances between her and the redheaded assassin you had a crush on. You knew she didn’t have kids, or any family that she had contact with. That only meant…  
“This is Natasha?” you guessed, taking the child into your arms, earning a vigorous nod from the archer.  
“I don’t know what happened. I went to her room to see if she was okay, because we were supposed to train together this morning and she never showed, and I found her like that! Do you think it could have been Loki?”  
“Oh, it most certainly was, Barton,” a smooth voice came from the other side of the room. You looked up to see Loki lurking in the doorway of the kitchen, smirking deviously as he looked between Clint, you, and the child in your arms.  
“Why would you turn Nat into a toddler?” the archer inquired, turning to glare at the god.  
“She tried to tell me that there was never a time in her life when she was carefree and had fun,” the brunet shrugged. “I decided to test that theory by returning her to a time before she became an assassin.”  
“And how long will this last?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes. Loki liked to torment the residents of the Tower with his magic, and Tony was still in the process of building a new anti-magic charm to force upon the god, so you all had to suffer his tricks until that was ready.  
Loki shrugged. “Could be a day. Could be a week. There’s no telling, really. Most of my spells don’t have a destined time of arrival or departure. They take effect when they want to, and they fade away when they want to.”  
With that, he left, leaving you and Clint to look at one another hopelessly.  
“I guess we have a child to take care of,” you mused, looking back at Nat. She seemed content to be sitting on your lap, secured by your arms.  
“You,” Clint corrected. “You have a child to take care of. Fury gave me a mission yesterday; that’s why Nat and I were going to train. She was supposed to go too, but I guess I’ll need a new partner now.”  
“When’s your mission?” you asked.  
“Tomorrow,” he grinned. You knew he was glad to be dumping the task of babysitting on you.  
“Bastard,” you grumbled. He chuckled before turning and leaving, presumably to talk to Fury. You let out a sigh and looked back at Natasha.  
“Are you hungry?”

After a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches, you and Natasha returned to your room to entertain yourselves. You weren’t sure what four-year-old Natasha would find entertaining, so you got out your video game consoles, drawing book, notebooks, and reading books. She took a particular liking to your book of fairytales, looking up at you with the most innocent expression on her face and asking you to read to her.  
“What story do you want first?” you inquired.  
“Alice in Wonderland,” she replied eagerly, snuggling against your side as you turned to the appropriate page. You even changed your voice for certain characters, making her giggle in excitement. You grinned at seeing her so happy. It was rare to see such a bright smile on Natasha’s lips nowadays.   
When that story was finished, she flipped through the book to find the next one.  
“Rapunzel,” she stated, looking back up at you. Who were you to say no to those pleading green eyes?  
You ready the story as she followed along with the pictures, telling you what she liked about each chapter. You liked to think that you could one day have moments like this with a child of your own, but for now, you would focus on entertaining your favorite assassin.

When she began getting sleepy, you suggested watching a movie. You learned that she was particularly fond of Disney movies with strong heroines, like Pocahontas, Mulan, and Lilo and Stitch. You smiled as you watched her get absorbed in the animated magic, listening to the songs and watching her act out the action scenes. You wondered if it was child Natasha or grown Natasha that related so well to the willpower and independence of the heroines in the screen. You liked to think that Loki was right, that there was a time in the redhead’s childhood where she got to enjoy herself and just be a child, instead of being a trained weapon. She didn’t remember much of her life before being an assassin, and what she did remember of her childhood she didn’t like discussing. So you didn’t know very much about her past. You never blamed her for it, though. You understood that she had a hard life and you didn’t want to pressure her into reliving it.  
You were lying on your bed, looking over her peacefully sleeping face. Pocahontas was ending, the credits rolling up the screen. Natasha had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, and you spent that time watching her slumber. You knew sleep was hard for her now, between the stress of her missions and the nightmares of her past. You tried your best to comfort her, but it only reminded you that she wasn’t yours to protect. She never rejected your attempts, though, always curling into your arms and letting you pet her hair until she fell back to sleep.  
She wasn’t bothered by that now. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, her chest rising and falling without problems. Her head was tilted back slightly and her curls fell back from her face. Her head was turned towards you, allowing you to watch as her body followed suit, curling against your chest. She had already been using your arm as a pillow, so you used that to pull her closer, draping your other arm over her side. You pressed the “power” button on the remote, turning off the TV, and then pulled the blanket that had earlier been kicked to the foot of the bed over the both of you. You reached up and turned off the light before settling down beside her, soon falling asleep yourself.

Natasha awoke to a comfortable warmth surrounding her. That was odd. She was normally cold when she woke up, having kicked off her blankets during the night. A quick glance down her body told her that the blankets were still draped over her, but what concerned her was the arm wrapped securely around her waist. Her gaze wandered up the arm to the torso it was attached to, continuing up until she found the face of the person who had tried to claim her in her sleep. Her glare softened when she saw it was you, and she tried to deny the blush that stained your cheeks when she realized her arms were wrapped around you as well.  
You shifted in your sleep and she froze as your eyes fluttered open. Your eyes widened when you saw that she was grown again. How were you going to explain cuddling her like a teddy bear?  
“Hey, Nat,” you greeted nervously, your voice thick from sleep.  
“Hey, (y/n),” she replied, her voice surprisingly soft and gentle.  
“How’d you sleep?” you inquired, waiting to see if she was mad.  
“Better than I have in a long time,” she answered quietly. “What happened? I feel like I’ve lost a day. Did Loki spike my drink or something?”  
You nodded. “He put a spell on you that turned you into a toddler.”  
She raised a brow. “And how did that end with me in your bedroom?”  
You blushed. “Clint had to go on a mission so I was put in charge of watching you until the spell wore off.”  
To your surprise, she smiled. “Is that so?”  
You nodded nervously.  
“I should thank Fury for giving Clint a mission, then.”  
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Why’s that?”  
She snuggled closer until her forehead rested against yours. She brought one hand up to rest on your cheek. “Because otherwise I wouldn’t have had a chance to do this.” She leaned in and pressed her plump lips to yours, and you responded immediately.  
“That is definitely worth thanking Fury for,” you whispered, kissing her again. “We should probably thank Loki too.”  
She rolled her eyes, pulling you closer. “He can wait.”  
The rest of the morning was spent in each other’s arms and on each other’s lips, ignoring all visitors until you were ready to get out of bed.


	23. Not My Type

**Not My Type**  
Request for fieldmark346  
“could you do natasha and reader fic were the reader is a lesbian and the guys of the team are confused as to why she (the reader) wont return their affections until natasha asks the reader out and everyone goes slack jawed and wonder why you said yes you then explain that you have no interest what so ever in men.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Tony asked incredulously as he followed you into the kitchen. You chuckled softly to yourself.  
“I mean, ‘no, I don’t want to go out with you’,” you replied simply, earning a gasp from the billionaire and the other residents of the Tower. You poured yourself a cup of coffee before looking back at the brunet.  
“Someone turned down the Great Tony Stark?” Clint asked with a grin.  
“Shut up,” Tony growled, turning to glare at the archer.  
“I told you she wouldn’t go for it,” Steve mused, sipping his own coffee.  
“What do you know, Capsicle? How long has it been since you’ve dated?” Tony countered.  
Steve chuckled.   
“Should have listened to him,” you teased, patting Tony’s cheek before slipping out of the kitchen and heading to your room.  
“Alright, you knew she would turn me down,” the billionaire said, turning to the blond. “Why?”  
“You’re not her type,” he replied with a shrug.  
“I’m Tony Stark! I’m everyone’s type!”  
“Not hers,” Steve grinned.

Tony wasn’t the only one to try and win your heart. Just a few days later, Clint approached you with a bouquet of flowers.  
“Go to dinner with me sometime?” he asked sweetly. You smiled apologetically, taking the bouquet from his hands.  
“You’re very sweet,” you replied, watching as his confident smile fell. “But I’m not interested.”  
“Ha!” Tony exclaimed. “It’s not just me!”  
Clint pouted but accepted defeat rather than following you around like Tony had.  
When you walked away, Steve shook his head. “You’re not her type either, Barton.”  
“Who is, then?” Clint inquired.  
“You’ll see,” the blond returned.

“Enough with those losers,” Sam commented as the two of you sat at the table. “I know what you want. You want some Chocolaccino.” He gestured to himself confidently.  
You let out a laugh. You had to appreciate Sam’s self-acceptance. “Sorry, honey. It’s not their skin that turns me off.”  
His smile fell and he raised a brow. “What is it, then?”  
You knew he’d accept the truth, and he’d enjoy watching Tony squirm until he figured it out.  
“It’s what’s in their pants,” you replied simply. “And what’s not on their chests.”  
Sam took a second to consider your answer before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! So let me guess; your type’s a bodacious redhead in a black bodysuit?”  
You nodded. “That she is.”

“I don’t get it,” Tony mused as he sat at the table with Clint, Steve, and Sam. “How can she turn down me and Birdy? The ladies always want one of us!”  
Steve and Sam shared a look and a chuckle.  
“It’s not you personally,” Sam replied, shuffling the deck of cards and dealing them out.  
“You’re just not her type,” Steve added.  
“Talking about me again?” you guessed, sauntering up to the table.  
“And why you won’t go out with any of us,” Clint pouted. You sat between him and Sam.  
“Deal me in,” you told them. “And it’s not that I won’t go out with any of you. Just not the ones who’ve asked me.”  
“Who would you go out with, then?” Tony inquired as the round began. “Thor?”  
You shook your head. “Definitely not.”  
“Bucky?” Clint guessed.  
“Nope.”  
“Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for Vision,” Tony grimaced.  
You let out a laugh. “Wrong again.”  
“Hey, boys,” a sultry voice called from the doorway. “And (y/n).”  
“Hey, Nat,” you called casually, earning a knowing glance from Sam.  
The redhead approached the table and stood behind you. “I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to ask you something.”  
“Shoot,” you replied, taking your turn before looking up at her.  
“You wanna get some coffee?” she asked, earning a raised brow from Tony.  
“Absolutely,” you smiled up at her. She leaned down and pecked your lips before walking away.  
“Oh,” Clint breathed in realization.  
“Damn,” Tony murmured, a mix of realization and arousal crossing his features.  
“Later, boys,” you told them, turning in your cards and standing from the table. You turned to follow the redhead out, reaching for her hand when you were close. She pecked your lips again and laced your fingers, making sure the boys could see you as you walked away.

“Well, now her turning me down makes perfect sense,” Tony stated the next night when everyone was gathered to watch a movie.  
He and Clint claimed two of the armchairs, Steve, Sam, and Bucky had the couch, and you and Nat shared another chair. You were curled up in her lap, her arms around your waist and your arm around her neck.  
“At least she had a good reason,” Clint mused. “I was starting to think it was us.”  
You rolled your eyes, resting your forehead against Nat’s. “I’m just not attracted to men.”  
“I think they figured that out,” Vision mused, having known about your sexual preferences long before the boys decided to try and court you.  
“It was very fun watching Tony try and figure out what he did wrong,” Nat grinned. “He felt so victimized when you said no.”  
You let out a giggle. “I almost wanted to say yes to Clint just to mess with Tony some more.”  
The billionaire pouted. “You two are mean.”  
Steve chuckled.  
“And you knew!” Tony accused.  
Steve nodded. “I did. I found out a few months ago when I asked (y/n) out.”  
“You asked her out too?” Nat inquired, looking at you. “You just get all the boys.”  
“But I don’t want any of them,” you reminded, pressing your lips to hers. She tangled a hand in your hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Neither of you cared about the audience of men now watching your every move, staring unblinkingly as you shifted so you could straddle her lap.  
“This is worth getting turned down,” Tony mused.  
Clint nodded silently in agreement.  
“How about we take this to my room?” Nat breathed against your lips.  
You nodded wordlessly, jumping off the chair and helping her up, following her down the hall.


	24. Possession - SMUT

**Possession**  
Request for Strideranime12  
“can you do a Dominant natasha x fem reader smut? were natasha gets jealous if that's fine?”

You sashayed your hips as you strolled through the crowded party, the blood red fabric of your cocktail dress clinging to your every dip and curve. All eyes were on you as you waded through the sea of people in search of your target. You were on a mission with Natasha, and your job was to distract criminals hosting the party while Nat sneaked into their office and stole back the files they’d taken from SHIELD. You didn’t know the details of their contents, but you knew that SHIELD information in enemy hands was bad news.  
The leader of the group was more than happy to oblige your convincing interest, inviting you to sit on his lap where all of his associates could see. You mentally pleaded for Natasha to hurry up and finish the mission as you complied, plopping down on his thigh and resting your hands on his chest. His hand immediately found your hip and rubbed it with your thumb, and you could tell by the lustful look in his eye that he wanted to know what was under your dress.  
It disgusted you.  
As you leaned against him, laughing dramatically when he told a horrid joke, your gaze wandered around the room, spotting a seething Natasha at the other end. She nodded once, signaling you that she had gotten the flash drive with SHIELD’s information.  
“Excuse me,” you murmured sweetly to the host. “I have to use the ladies’ room.”  
He pouted and landed a loud smack to your rear when you rose from his lap. You plastered on a cheeky smile, resting the urge to slap him across the face as you sauntered away from him.  
You met Nat at the end of the room and followed her around the corner. You headed into the bathroom and crawled out the window.

After taking the flash drive to Fury and giving him a report of the mission, you and Natasha were dismissed for the night. You let out a sigh of relief, plucking the five-inch stiletto heels from your feet so you could walk flat. You never realized heels could hurt so much.  
As you headed back to your room, a hand gripped your wrist and spun you around. You came face-to-face with Natasha whose expression was blank but her eyes said everything.  
“Great job flirting with that creep,” she murmured.  
You smirked. “Aw, Nat. Did you get jealous watching me sit on his lap?”  
She stepped forward, causing you to step back until you hit the wall of your room. She dipped her head so her mouth was level with your ear. “Yes, I did. The only thing you need to be sitting on is my face.”  
Heat tingled between your legs at her words, and before you could respond, a hand gripped your hair and plump lips smashed against yours. You moaned at her aggressiveness, walking blindly backwards into your room. She kicked the door closed behind her, never breaking the kiss or removing her hand from your hair.  
She backed you up until you fell backwards on the bed. As you scrambled up to rest against the pillows, she crawled over you, hovering above you.   
Her free hand gripped the plunging neckline of your dress and tugged, the weak fabric easily giving away and ripping down the middle. You gasped as cool air hit your flaming body.  
“You’re lucky I didn’t have to pay for that,” you mused as her hot mouth traveled down your sensitive neck.  
“I’ll buy you a better one,” she replied before biting and sucking at your weak spot, leaving a bruising hickey. You were glad you had some time off; there was no way you’d be able to cover that one.  
You hadn’t worn a bra beneath your dress, so she peppered kisses down your chest until her mouth found your breasts. She nibbled and sucked, alternating between sucking your breast into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the nipple, causing you to shiver and arch your chest closer to her. When she switched to pay attention to the other breast, her hands slid down your sides to your flimsy panties, pulling them off with ease. Your legs spread of their own accord as she slid her hands up your thighs.  
She chuckled, the sound vibrating against your chest. “So compliant,” she teased, tracing a finger up your slit.  
“Nat!” you gasped, rocking your hips into her hand. Her thumb circled your clit a few times before pulling away, eliciting a whimper from your throat.  
She chuckled as she lied down on her back beside you. You looked over at her, eyes clouded over with lust. She wiggled her fingers at you, gesturing for you to come closer. You complied, shifting so that you were on top, straddling her waist.  
“Sit on my face,” she instructed, her arms resting by her head. A furious blush stained your cheeks and you were glad the light was off. You crawled up her body until you had one leg on either side of her head, your hands holding onto the headboard for stability.  
Her hands found your hips, using them as leverage to bring your heat to her mouth. Your head flew back and a silent moan took your lips as her tongue slid between your folds, flicking your clit. She sucked at the bundle of nerves until a loud moan ripped form your throat and your hands reached down to grasp her hair. She moaned in return, sending vibrations through your core. With her hands squeezing your ass, she pressed her tongue inside of you, swirling it around before thrusting. Your moans came louder and more desperate as her tongue and teeth hit every nerve, every perfect spot.  
You felt your knot building, and when she removed her tongue so she could suck on your clit, the dam broke and your orgasm gushed out all over her tongue. She happily sucked up the mess she made, waiting until your moans faced into tired pants before she flipped you back over.   
She kissed you, knowing you wouldn’t mind the taste of yourself on her tongue. You responded lazily, turning to cuddle into her open arms.  
“When I have more energy,” you murmured, looking up at her, “remind me to return the favor.”  
She grinned and kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”  
“Goodnight,” you returned, falling asleep in her arms.


	25. Good Morning

Good Morning  
Request for Strideranime12  
A/N: I don’t think it’s quite hot enough to require a warning, and I feel like the request summary is a warning in itself.  
The new Quotev update is making searching for my requesters ten times harder than it needs to be. If you’ve requested a story from me in any series on Quotev, leave me a pm and tell me what your request was so I can keep a note of it for when it gets posted. I have the names people used when they requested, but many of you have changed your names since then so I can’t find you.  
“Steamy make out”

Teeth and tongues crashed against each other as hands groped at soft skin. A pale hand tangled in your smooth hair, lacing its fingers in your locks and gripping tightly. A gasp fled from your lips, allowing a hot tongue to slip into your mouth and ravage everything it could reach. Your hands held smooth hips, squeezing with bruising force, leaving your mark on pale skin. Another hand latched onto your breast, squeezing and pulling. It slipped under the hem of your disheveled shirt, delighted to find that you weren’t wearing a bra. Fingers ran over your nipple, hardening it to a point and squeezing softly.  
“Nat,” you moaned as her plump lips left yours to travel down your jaw. She peppered feather light kisses along the bone, making her way down your neck. You tilted your head back to give her more access as her lips parted, baring her teeth against your skin. You sucked your lower lip between your teeth as her teeth clamped down on the soft spot of your neck, suckling the skin there.   
Your hands ran up and down her sides, slipping under her shirt. She hummed in appreciation as you bundled up the fabric, gripping it to pry it over her head. She raised her arms and pulled away from your neck to let you discard the garment. She copied the notion, fingers dragging teasingly up your sides beneath your shirt. Your hips wiggled of their own accord under her ministrations. She pushed the fabric of your shirt up under your arms, waiting for you to raise your limbs so that she could peel the shirt off. She wasted no time in sliding an arm under your back to unclasp your bra, practically ripping it from your torso. You chewed your lip as you laid beneath her, half naked, arms raised over your head and eyes glazed over with lust.  
She dipped her head, pressing kisses down your chest. You arched your back into her mouth, moaning loudly as she buried her face between your breasts. Your hands found her back, dragging your nails across her skin. You paused to pry at her bra, unclasping it and pulling it from her arms. She wiggled out of it without detaching from your skin. One of your hands tangled in her curly red locks, tugging harder with every bite she left on your skin. Your hand slid from her back of its own accord, reaching around to cup her breast. She groaned against your skin, pausing her ministrations to let a sigh fall from her lips.  
You took that opportunity to switch places, pushing her back to the other side of the bed so you could climb over her. You straddled her slim hips, running your hands down her pale torso. She hummed under your touch, her arms falling beside her head submissively. A grin split your lips at the sight of this trained assassin lying beneath you, a panting, lustful mess.   
Your hands took a breast in each hand, kneading the mounds of flesh as her plump lips parted to let out a sigh of approval. Her hands gripped the pillow beneath her head, and you grinned at the effect you had on her. You shifted your stance to lie down, still hovering above her. Your head dipped to take her breast into your mouth, sucking on the sensitive skin. She bit her lip to contain a groan, one of her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. Your hand played with her other breast, rolling her nipple between your fingers. Her back arched to press her chest closer to your mouth, and you moaned against her skin, letting the noise vibrate against her.  
“Fuck, (y/n),” she gasped, using her hand in your hair to pull you away from her breast. You grinned slyly at her, tilting your head.  
“Yes, love?”  
She smashed your lips together, using the force and your surprise to push you back beneath her. She lay atop you, pinning your arms by your head. You pretended to struggle until she growled, taking your lower lip between her teeth. She tugged at the skin, sucking it into her mouth. You moaned shamelessly, fingers tangling in the sheets beneath you. She grinned, releasing your lip to plunge her tongue into your mouth. Your jaw fell open without much protest, allowing her to search inside. She began sucking on your tongue, and you wrapped a leg around her hips to keep her close. She ground her hips against yours and you whimpered submissively.  
She held your hands in one of hers, allowing the other to wander down your skin. Her fingers danced along your bare torso, skimming down to the waistband of your jeans. She fumbled with the button and zipper, only having one hand to work with. Finally prying them open, she hastily shoved the fabric down your legs and out of the way. You wiggled your hips to help kick the garment off.  
“Your turn,” you murmured between kisses. She released your hands, resting her arms on either side of your head and hovering above you. Your hands slid down her sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She shivered under your touch, spurring you on as you reached the waistband of the spandex shorts she wore to bed. You hooked your fingers in the elastic and yanked the fabric down, feeling as it pushed over the curve of her ass. She wiggled to help you remove the shorts, kicking them off to land somewhere on the floor.  
Your hands gripped her barely-covered ass, squeezing its plumpness. Her hands held your soft hips, rocking her pelvis against yours. You brought her lips back to yours with a moan.  
Just as she began peppering kisses down your neck, the intercom buzzed and a voice came through.  
“(y/n), Nat, get up,” Steve called. “We have all-day training. Let’s go.”  
You groaned in unison, sighing as her head fell onto your shoulder.   
She kissed you softly. “Come on, love.” She reluctantly rose from her position and stood, stretching her arms over her head. She tossed you your bra and handed you a tank top and yoga pants to borrow so you wouldn’t have to go back to your room.  
You held her hand as the two of you left her room to start training.


	26. Date Night

Date Night  
Request for Animalsofgaming  
A/N: I used the whole request but I cut it off so it didn't give it away.  
"Could you please possibly do a Natasha x Reader where Natasha a the reader have been dating for awhile and Natasha wants to propose but doesn't know how."

 

"Have you come up with a plan yet?" Steve inquired as he sat at the breakfast table with Natasha, who's normally calm and uncaring demeanor was shredded into nerves and anxiety.  
"No," the redhead sighed, tilting her head to rest it in the palm of her hand. "I don't know how, or when. The only thing I've done is picked out the ring."  
"Well, that's a step," the blond chuckled. "Let me see it!"  
Natasha chewed her lip as she reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out a ring sans box. She had been keeping it in its perfect satin box, buried at the bottom of her panty drawer, but lately she had been carrying it with her in case the perfect moment struck and she was overwhelmed with love and motivation.  
She placed the ring in Steve's open palm, awaiting his reaction.  
"It's perfect," he smiled, handing it back to her. "She'll love it."  
"I hope so," the redhead sighed again. "Now I just have to ask."  
"You know she'll say yes," Steve assured her, but the quiver in her eye and the way she sucked her lower lip between her teeth told him that she wasn't so sure.  
"You'll find the moment," he promised, resting a hand on her arm.  
Nat picked up her cup of tea and sipped the rest of the warm liquid, staring into the bottom of it as though it would suddenly give her the perfect idea.

"A date sounds fun!"  
Nat had approached you later that day to inform you that she was taking you on a date that night. The two of you had been so busy with work, between her being an Avenger and you running a daycare, that you hadn't had much time to yourselves.  
She smiled and kissed you sweetly. "I'm glad you're excited," she smiled. "Wear something dressy, though you look good in everything."  
You couldn't fight the smile that emerged from her kind words. "Do I get to know where we're going?"  
She shook her head, kissing you again. "It's a surprise."  
You pouted softly, giggling when she peppered kisses across your face. She told you to be ready by seven o'clock and kissed you goodbye before heading out for her training session with Clint.

Around five, you took a shower to begin getting ready. Once you were clean, you slipped on the sun dress that Nat had bought you. It was July, so even the nights were warm until it got too late. If you got cold, you could steal Nat's jacket.  
You applied a light amount of makeup, just enough to accent your already stunning features, knowing how much Nat loved your natural look. You brushed and styled your hair into a look that was detailed enough for date night while appearing effortless.  
Natasha arrived at your shared apartment at seven o'clock sharp. You lived together, but she recalled how much you enjoyed opening the front door to see her standing on the othe side, so she opted for knocking and awaiting your answer.  
A giggle tumbled from your lips as you looked at her standing outside.  
"You look beautiful," she smiled softly.  
A blush stained to cheeks. "Thank you. You do, too."  
She offered her arm and you smiled, looping your arm through hers. She led you to the curb where her vespa was parked. You reached for the spare helmet, but she insisted on putting it on you herself, careful not to jostle your perfectly pinned hair. She climbed on and patted the space behind her, and you swing a leg over and settled in. Your arms wrapped around her waist as she started the engine and drove down the road.  
You smiled when you arrived at the restaurant and she pulled her vespa into a front parking spot. It was a quaint cafe, fancier than a roadside diner but not so fancy as to have cloth napkins and black table covers.  
She led you inside and told the hostess her name. She smiled and led you to a booth off to the side, handing you each a menu and taking your drink orders.   
When Nat sat across from you, you knew she was up to something. She was a low-key cuddler - she would sit beside you in a booth and hold your hand and rest her head on your shoulder. She wanted affection, but she was too rough on the outside to ask for it.  
"So was there a reason for this impromptu date?" you inquired. She reached across the table to take you hand in hers, an affectionate gesture that was normally saved for walking home.  
"I just wanted to take you out," she replied with a shrug. "We haven't had a date in a long while."  
You nodded in agreement. It had been a few months. You still felt that she had an ulterior motive, but you let it slide, enjoying the moment.  
"I have to run to the restroom," you murmured, sliding out of the booth. Making sure she wasn't watching you, you sauntered up to the hostess podium.   
"I need to order a drink for my date," you told her.  
She nodded. "What would you like?"  
You wrote down your specifications on a notepad and handed it to her. She smiled as she read your request, promising to give it to your server.  
Nat smiled softly as you returned to your seat across from her. She rested her hand on the table as an invitation for you to add yours. With a chuckle, you placed your hand over hers, lacing your fingers.  
Your server approached with a tray of drinks. You watched your girlfriend's copper red eyebrows quirk in confusion when she noticed a third drink on the tray.  
"Sparkling cider," the server stated, placing a glass in front of Nat. "(F/drink)," she continued, placing the other glass in front of you. "And earl grey tea," she finished, setting the mug of tea in the middle of the table. She promised to return shortly to take your orders after you assured her that you would need more time.  
"Tea?" Nat inquired. Earl grey was her favorite, and you usually only drank tea when you weren't feeling good.  
You nodded, pushing it towards her. "For you."  
She took a sip, smiling softly. "So I may have had an actual reason for taking you out tonight."  
You raised a brow. "I had a feeling. What is it?"  
She took a breath followed by a long drink of her cider. "I love you. You know that, right? I love you with everything I have. You are my entire world." She took both of your hands in both of hers. "You've always been there for me. You've always been my rock. I don't know what I would do without you."  
Your heart hammered inside your chest and you had a feeling you knew where she was going with this. "I don't want to interrupt, but I think you should finish your tea."  
Her brow furrowed. She took a long drink, consuming enough that the bottom of the mug was visible. "What I'm trying to say is-"  
She stared down at the cup before looking up at you, her mouth agape. In the bottom of her teacup, barely covered by the couple drops of tea remaining, two simple words had been painted.  
'Marry me?'  
And sitting on the bottom of the ceramic, making Nat wonder how she had managed to finish the beverage without swallowing it, sat a silver band of Celtic knotwork, and in the center was her favorite gemstone.  
Her plump lips twisted into a smirk and she retreated one hand to the pocket of her coat, fumbling around before producing a small box. You bit your lip as she placed it in front of you and opened it. Inside was a ring made of two silver bands twisting together, joined by your birthstone.  
"Will you spend your life with me?" she asked gently. You reached out and took her cup, pulling the ring from the bottom. After drying it off work a napkin, you took her left hand in both of yours. You met her eyes, waiting for her acceptance.  
"Of course," she whispered, eyes glued to your movements as you slid the ring onto her finger. She copied the motions, holding your hand in both of hers. You nodded immediately and eagerly, biting your lip as your ring finger was decorated with a life changing piece of jewelry.  
Everyone in the cafe had heard your confessions of love and were now cheering loudly, including your hostess and server. Nat rose from her seat to sit beside you and snuggle into your side, and there she stayed for the remainder of your date.


	27. Family of Three

Family of Three  
Request for Romanogers2015  
"Hey, you know on your Natasha romanoff x reader, I was wondering if you would be able to do a chapter where they adopt a baby girl or something like that? It would be nice to see how Natasha would react with a baby around her :)"

Many people believed that Avengers shouldn't have children, for a variety of reasons. You'd heard them all, from reasonable points like "It's a dangerous lifestyle," to absurd accusations such as "The Avengers are bad people who don't deserve families." Despite all the good the team had done, there were still some skeptics in the world who thought that the band of super citizens brought more destruction than they prevented.   
You knew some of the team believed the statement as well - that Avengers shouldn't have children. You understood their concerns. Bucky had the constant fear of hurting someone with his prosthetic arm. Steve worried that he wouldn't have time for a family. Clint feared that the enemy would use his family as leverage. Tony was concerned about his loved ones ending up in the middle of a battle.  
But the one that broke your heart was the belief of your own girlfriend, Natasha. She didn't believe she deserved children. She thought that all of the torture and murder she'd committed, along with her other miscellaneous crimes committed out of justice and protection, deemed her unfit to be a parent. She simply believed that she wasn't good enough to have a family of her own, and you knew how desperately she wanted one.  
You'd broached the subject a couple of times, but after the first attempt resulted in Natasha collapsing against your chest with the most crestfallen expression on her beautiful face, you didn't have the heart to bring it up very often. Only when Nat was in a good mood or you had a particularly heavy case of Baby Fever did you mention it, and it always ended the same.  
Nat wanted a family, with you, but she didn't think she deserved one.

It had been six months since the last attack on New York; the last time the Avengers had been called together. Your optimistic nature thought that maybe things were looking up, but you knew cautious people like Natasha were just waiting for the next disaster.   
You needed to give Natasha something happy in her life, something to look forward to besides you. Plus, you would have company while your girlfriend was out on missions.  
You had a steady job that made more than enough money to support a family. You and the redhead had moved into an apartment of your own, and you had a car. Everything in your lives was stable and good.  
It was time.

You picked Natasha up after a meeting with the team at the Tower, telling her that you had a surprise. She was skeptical, but the grin on her lips told you that she loved your surprises, even when she said she didn't. Matching her grin, you drove to your destination, not giving her a single hint.  
Her brow furrowed in confusion as she read the name of the building. "New York Adoption Agency? (Y/n), what is this?"  
You took in a breath. "For the past several months, I've been in contact with  worker here. I've filled out paperwork and told her about both of us. I told her what we've been looking for and today, she's found the perfect match. All we have to do is finish the papers and meet our child." (1)  
"Our... child?"  
You nodded, gesturing for her to exit the car. You followed, locking it as you headed into the building. Taking her hand, you flashed her a smile, walking up to the front desk. You gave the woman your name and told her who you had an appointment with. She smiled and led you to a room down the hall where your worker's office was. You thanked her before slipping inside and sitting down.  
Your worker, Amanda, soon followed, smiling warmly at you. "(Y/n), always a pleasure. And you must be Natasha?"  
The redhead nodded slowly, gripping your hand.  
Amanda's smile widened. "I've found just the perfect match for you two."   
Another worker entered the office with a pink bundle in her arms. You rose to stand before her, your heart melting at the tiny, rosy-cheeked face that peeked out from the folds.  
"She's perfect," you breathed, taking her in your arms. You turned around, facing Natasha, who stood from her seat.  
"What's her name?" she asked softly.  
"She doesn't have one," Amanda replied. "She was given up at birth. You get to name her."  
"What do you think?" you asked your girlfriend.  
"(Girl/n)," Natasha exhaled. You beamed. It was Natasha's favorite name - she accepted what you had done.  
You finished signing the paperwork and wrote your daughter's name on her birth certificate.  
After thanking Amanda for all of her help, you carried (g/n) out to the car with Natasha in tow. You strapped her into the carseat you had already placed in the back seat, securing her safety before slipping into the driver's seat. You watched as Natasha turned around, gazing at your daughter while you drove home. A warm smile lit up your face. You were a family.

A week later, you finally agreed to let Tony throw you a baby shower. Well, more of a welcoming party. He had been begging since you first told him about the adoption, but you wanted to give yourself, Natasha, and the baby some time to adjust before introducing her to the team.  
By the time the three of you arrived at the Tower, Tony had decked it out in what looked like the entire baby girl's section of a party store. Pink and white streamers were tacked to the ceiling, pink and silver balloons were tied to every chair, a large "It's a girl!" banner was stretched across the doorway, a large cake with pink and white frosting spelling out "Welcome Home baby (g/n)!" was waiting on the counter, and there was a table dedicated to a large pile of gifts. (2)  
"Tony," you breathed. "This is incredible."  
"Only the best for a baby Avenger!" the billionaire grinned. He held out his arms, and with a chuckle, you placed (g/n) in his hold. He cooed to her softly, and a giggle escaped your lips. You held Natasha's hand as the rest of the team gathered to greet your baby.  
You sat down beside Nat on a couch as the guys passed you presents to open. Tony had gotten you the fanciest carseat you'd ever seen, and it was one of the new ones that you could adjust as your child grew, so you didn't have to buy another one. Clint had gotten you bottles and formula, which had been suggested by Laura. Bruce had found the cutest and softest stuffed animals and baby blankets and wrapped them all up in a gift basket. Steve supplied you with diapers and baby wipes. Pepper bought you about a dozen baby outfits. Thor, with Jane's help, gave you a basket of baby lotions, shampoos, and powders.  
"You guys are amazing," you sighed as you looked at the collection of presents for your daughter.  
"Anything for you two," Tony beamed. You wrapped your arm around Nat, who was cradling your sleeping daughter. Just the look of love and adoration in her eyes told you that you made the right choice. You were making her see that she deserved a family.  
You leaned against her side as the cake was cut and passed out, and the three of you spent the day with he team, celebrating your new family.

 

(1) I know the adoption process takes forever but I don't know all the details so for the story's sake leave it alone and let it be simple.  
(2) I know some people don't like traditional colors like pink for girls, so before you whine, I did say he cleared out the party store, and at the party store, girly decorations ae pink. Plus I like pink for girls.


End file.
